


Seduce Scarlet

by leavesandlattes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavesandlattes/pseuds/leavesandlattes
Summary: Betty is ready to explore her darker side with Jughead — but can he be what she needs now that she'd ready to trade Pink Perfection for Seduce Scarlet? Determined to fulfill her dark fantasies, she may be tempted to find her pleasure with an older and more dangerous Serpent.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first fan fiction, gently beta'd by a few enthusiastic friends. Feel free to leave a review!
> 
> Preface: Some time has passed since the timeline of Riverdale Season 1 and Archie, Betty, Veronica and Jughead are all students at Riverdale Community College. Betty struggled with her inner darkness following the events that occurred while they were in high school, which led to her parents forcing her to stay close to home, rather than going to a big university of her choice. Archie prioritized his music -- much to the dismay of his football coach -- and his football scholarship fell through. He is now studying Musical Education with plans to return to Riverdale High to fill the still-empty music teacher role left vacated by Ms. Grundy once he graduates. Jughead and Veronica followed their friends to RCC for their freshman year, with hopes of transferring somewhere else for their sophomore years.

Eyes growing heavier by the second, Betty was finding it almost impossible to stay awake as her “Ethics in Journalism” professor droned on about integrity. The just-too-warm classroom and the  _ wah-wah-wah _ tone of her voice made napping conditions ideal. Just as her breathing was evening out, she felt a dull poke in her side and a rough hand slide over hers. Opening one eyelid with a huff of frustration, she took in the smirk of the beanie-bedecked young man to her right. 

“You know you’re missing some riveting stuff here,” whispered Jughead directly into her ear. Betty could hear the sarcasm in his voice and it made her own lips twitch upward in response.  

“Juggy, you know I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” Betty whispered back. “Between school and Polly being up with the twins all hours of the night, it’s just been a lot to deal with.”

Concern flooded the blue-green eyes she had grown so fond of. “But you’re okay, right?” Jughead questioned hesitantly. 

It took all Betty had to not roll her eyes at the question. She knew Jughead meant well, but he had been walking on eggshells around her ever since everything that happened. She just wanted everything to go back to normal -- whatever that was -- as soon as possible.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise. I’m much stronger than you think, Juggy,” Betty whispered, pushing herself back in her seat. Eager to change the conversation, she leaned forward and bit her bottom lip in the way that drove Jughead crazy. Lightly stepping her fingertips across his thigh, she whispered, “In fact, maybe we should pick up where we left off last weekend at the trailer…” Satisfaction and a sharp rush of power filled her as she saw Jughead’s jaw clench and his grip tighten on his pencil. 

Jughead exhaled with a slow rush of air and looked to the front of the classroom to ensure their professor was still unaware of their conversation. “Betty, you know how badly I want to do that. After everything that’s happened, I just think we should take it slow.” He brushed a stray curl out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. 

Betty leaned into his palm and looked at him pleadingly, “But I don’t want to take it slow. I’d like to move... as quickly as humanly possible. With a wicked gleam in her eye, Betty took Jughead’s hand from her cheek and slowly moved his thumb into her mouth. Eyes only on him, she swiped her tongue over the rough pad of his thumb and sucked. She couldn’t contain her smile after seeing Jughead’s breathing grow ragged and his hand move hastily to cover the growing bulge in his pants. 

“For fuck’s sake, Betty,” he whispered on an exhale. Betty gave his thumb a quick final suck and was about to take it further down her throat to show him what she  _ really  _ wanted to do when she heard a loud  _ RAP  _ from the head of the classroom.

“Betty! Jughead! Are you paying attention?!” The nearsighted professor was squinting from the front of the classroom and their other classmates’ heads were turned their way. Jughead ripped his thumb from Betty’s mouth so fast she almost got whiplash. With sweat starting to bead on his brow and his voice an octave higher than his normal register, he quickly responded, “Yes, ma’am.”  

Their professor let out a loud “harrumph!” and turned back to the board, continuing on with the monotonous lecture. Unable to contain it any further, Betty collapsed onto her desk in a fit of giggles, peeking out from behind her hands at Jughead’s stricken face.

“Ma’am?” she questioned with a snicker.

With an exasperated chuckle and a quick roll of his eyes, he leaned over to her chair and put a warm hand behind her neck. Pulling her close enough to smell the unique parchment-meets-evergreen smell that defined him, he whispered with a smile in his voice, “You’re going to be the end of me, Betty Cooper.” With a quick nip on her ear, he sat back in his seat and determinedly faced the front of the classroom, smirk never leaving his face.

Betty bit her lip with a smile and faced the front of the classroom. With a quick tug of her lips, she thought, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

 

\---

 

After her final class, Betty dropped her books in her car and started walking over Pop’s where she met Archie, Veronica and Juggy every Friday. The brisk fall chill in the air had Betty wrapping her blush coat snuggly around her. Looking down at her pastel cuffs, she sighed in frustration. Betty had been known as the bubblegum pink over-achiever-next-door her entire life and she used to enjoy that part of herself. But after the breakdown, she had been envying Veronica’s vampy wardrobe and even searched in her closet for her old black wig. She huffed a stray blonde curl out of her eyes and felt the rush of warm air as she pushed her way into Pop’s. The door chime signaled her arrival and she instantly saw Veronica lift an eyebrow in greeting at their usual booth. 

“Hello, dollface,” her best friend said with a quick snap of a compact. Against Veronica’s sophisticated black silk tank and blazer combo, Betty’s pale blue sweater set made her feel like she was getting ready for the 8th grade dance. Sitting down with a huff, she grabbed a fry from the basket and dejectedly stuffed it into her mouth.

“I think I need to change” she said through a mouth full of french fry. 

Veronica’s look of distaste at her lack of manners was priceless. “If by ‘change’ you mean ‘completely overhaul your etiquette’, than you’d be correct.”

Betty’s eyeroll was swift and fierce. “Ha, ha, V. I’m serious, though! Ever since everything went down in high school, I feel like everyone wants me to be the exact version of Betty that I was before and I can’t do it. I want to... wear black boots and red lipstick, and oh my god -- do I want a nose ring?” Betty let out a groan and hid her face in her hands. 

Veronica considered her outburst thoughtfully and responded, “No, you have a nose shape coveted by supermodels, plastic surgeons and suburban princesses alike. Touch it and I’ll personally kill you.”

Betty looked up from her hands as Pop set down her usual strawberry chocolate milkshake with extra cherries. “Thanks Pop,” Betty said with a small smile. With the tip of his hat, he made his way back to the counter. Betty took a large swig and sighed into her straw.

“So why all the doom and gloom about it, Bets? If you want to change, then change. It’s as simple as that.”

Betty looked at her best friend with equal parts envy and exasperation. “Easy for you to say! You’re the queen of reinvention.”

With a dramatic flip of her hair, Veronica quipped, “Well yes, darling, Madonna and I have that in common.”

Betty let out a quick chuckle and popped the first cherry into her mouth. Twisting the stem between her fingertips, she said, “Can I share something private with you?”

It was Veronica’s turn to roll her eyes. “Honey, we didn’t handcuff a jock to a hot tub and dump syrup down his face to start keeping secrets now, did we?”

Betty nodded and said, “Excellent point, counselor.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Since we started school, Jughead and I haven’t...well, you know…”

“Visited PoundTown?” asked Veronica conspiratorially. 

Betty scoffed and swatted Veronica’s arm, “No, there have been no visits to PoundTown and I would very much like to go back. It’s a lovely place.”

“That it is,” said Victoria seriously. 

“I think he just wants to protect me because I’ve been a bit overwhelmed with my journalism classes and managing editorial duties at  _ The Register _ , but he acts like I’m so fragile,” Betty whispered, leaning in even further. “But sometimes a girl just wants thrown up against a wall, you know?”

Veronica leaned back in her booth, eyebrows raised and smile wide. “Elizabeth Cooper, as I live in breathe,” she said with a thick fake Southern accent, hand fanning her face. 

“I’m serious, V!”

Veronica leaned forward and gripped her hands. “I know you are and I will cherish this conversation for the rest of my days. Betty,  _ of course  _ girls want it rough every now and again. Honestly, some even prefer it to the alternative.”

Betty nodded seriously and squared her shoulders. “So how do I get Jughead to play rough?” Her mouth quirked up at the steamy thought. 

Veronica’s eyes got that gleam that told Betty instantly that she had a plan. She leaned forward and said, “Sometimes B, you can’t wait for a man to take the reins. You just have to saddle up and do it yourself. Come to my house tonight and we’ll get you ready for a night Jughead will never forget.”

“That sounds amazing, but there won’t be any chaps involved, correct? Your cowboy analogy was troublesome.”

V winked and said, “Of course not, but I do have some excellent fringed p---”

Veronica was cut off by the sound of the door chime. Betty lifted her eyes to see Archie and Jughead walking over to their booth. His shy smile paired with the recent topic of conversation was enough to have heat pooling between her legs. She bit down on her lip as he slid into the booth next to her.

He pushed her hair behind her shoulder and jokingly whispered into her ear, “Hey, what did I say about that? No lip biting in public.” She could hear his smile when he spoke.

She turned until her lips were right at his ear and whispered, “Climb up to my room tonight, okay? Around 11.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and turned toward Archie and Veronica before he could respond. Popping the final cherry into her mouth, she worked her tongue until the stem came out in a perfect knot. With a sly wink, she placed the tied stem into Jughead’s hand. She looked up to to see Archie slack-jawed and Veronica with triumph and pride in her eyes. 

“So how was class today, guys?”

 

\---

 

Betty had always loved going over to V’s apartment. It felt like a luxury hotel where she could truly escape from her Mom and Dad --  even Polly and the babies sometimes. Since Veronica’s parents had been in jail for the last year with no release date in sight, Betty had been spending most of her weeknights here to keep Veronica company. V dumped her bag on the dining room table and settled herself in front of the bar cart.

“Pick your poison, dollface,” she said with a glance over her shoulder. Betty’s mouth opened to request her usual vodka cranberry, but before she could even think, another order came pouring out of her mouth. “Whiskey ginger,” she said decisively. Betty remembered Mr. Jones making that at the trailer for them one night, and she loved it. Veronica raised a single eyebrow and with a smile and a shake of her head, started making the drink.

“Head to my closet, Bets, and see what you can find. There’s bound to be something in there that will knock the beanie right off that Jones’ boy’s head.”

Betty walked into Veronica’s room and sighed with envy. All dark purples and reds, it really looked like one of those boudoirs you saw all the old Hollywood starlets swooning in.

“Maybe Juggy would want to actually fuck me if this was my room, instead of the Polly Pocket explosion it actually is,” Betty thought with a grimace.

Walking over to V’s closet, she opened the lacquer double doors and stepped inside. It smelled like cashmere and jasmine and Betty just wanted to sink herself into the plush carpet. Betty knew Veronica kept all of her pretty “underpinnings” (as V would call them) in the far corner, so she made her way past the blazers and lace tops and stood in front of the row of lingerie that surely cost more than Betty’s entire wardrobe. Red lace, white satin, black corsets -- Veronica had something for every occasion. Betty ran her fingers over the items, thumbing her way through the colors and fabrics. She paused briefly at some red strappy contraption that seemed to include crotchless panties. She unsnapped them from their hanger as she mumbled to herself, “Jesus Christ, V…”

“What’s up, buttercup?” said Veronica behind her, two whiskey cocktails in hand.

Eyebrows raised in confusion, Betty turned around with the underwear strung between her fingers.

“Hmmm, well love, I think we should try walking before we run. How about you give me those and we will find something a little more your speed.“ She snatched the swatch of lace out of Betty’s hands, gave her the cocktails and turned to the rack. Quickly thumbing through all the items, she grabbed a fluffy blue nightie, a baby pink bra and panty set and then a standard black bustier. 

“Go try these on. I just bought them and they’ve never been worn because I’m in a dry spell of the ages -- so in my opinion, that is destiny telling me that I’m meant to be the Fairy Godmother of PoundTown tonight.”

Betty winced and grabbed the items out of Veronica’s hands. “Do we have to call it PoundTown?

“Dollface, when you want it rough, it’s called PoundTown. Beggars can’t be choosers. Now scoot and I’ll sit in the bedroom.”

Betty shut the door and began putting on the powder blue nightie when she heard Ronnie put on some sexy playlist. She laughingly groaned and yelled, “Turn that off!” through the doorway.

“Absolutely not! LET THE FASHION SHOW COMMENCE!”

Betty took a large swig of her whisky and opened the door, bumping and grinding to some ridiculous song that V had playing. 

Veronica was sitting on her chaise, doubled-over in laughter and ow-owing at Betty’s moves. With a twist of her finger she told Betty to turn. After Betty faced her again, Veronica scrunched up her nose and said, “No, you look too virginal. NEXT.”

This was how the next five outfits proceeded. They were either too virginal, too moody, too bright. Betty was about to break down in tears when V perked up in the chaise.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I had forgotten it!”

She peeled out of the room as quickly as she could and came streaming back almost immediately with a black shopping bag. Pulling the cream tissue paper out in tufts and throwing them behind her, Veronica grabbed whatever was in the bag, pulled it out triumphantly and yelled, “This is it!”

Betty turned the music down on the speaker and strode over to the bed. On it, Veronica had laid out the sexiest lingerie she’d ever seen in her life. It was a black mesh bustier with dark red silk cherries strategically placed over the nipples. The panties were basically non-existent, a triangular scrap of mesh with a single cherry placed exactly right. She turned the panties over in her hands and gasped out loud. There was no back to them whatsoever -- just a scalloped edge with a tiny little cherry at the apex. She looked at Veronica pleadingly. This was it... it had to be this one.

Veronica shook her head and said, “Girl, after that stem trick you pulled this afternoon, no one could wear this but you. It’s yours.”

Betty threw her arms around Veronica and they fell onto the bed, laughing. 

“I’m going to get laid tonight!” Betty gleefully yelled into the violet comforter. Veronica rolled over onto her side and propped her head up with her hand. 

“This is going to be a moment you remember forever. Okay, now for shoes, hair and makeup…” Veronica jumped off the bed and ran into the closet, yelling things back at Betty along the way.

Betty, still smiling, rolled over onto her back and sighed. Her breasts were already heavy thinking about Jughead unsnapping the front hooks of the bustier with his rough hands, his mouth making its way from her ear down her throat. The idea of him bending her over and taking her from behind in those panties had her squirming on the bed right as Veronica popped her head out of the closet.

“Bets, I know mi casa es su casa, but seriously don’t masturbate on my bed, I just had that duvet dry-cleaned. Now come over here and try on these boots.”

With a throaty laugh, Betty jumped up and made her way over to the closet. Tossing back the rest of her whiskey, she bit her lip and sent a text to Juggy.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight. I have a surprise. ;)”

 

\---

 

The clock on her nightstand read 11:00 and Betty was pacing back in forth in her room, waiting for Jughead to arrive and trying to keep her shit together. Veronica’s thigh-high boots kept unlacing in the back, her ass was exceptionally cold and her false eyelashes kept sticking to the top of her eyelids. She looked at herself in the mirror and could hardly recognize herself. Honestly, she felt incredible and finally like herself for the first time in weeks. Her breasts were pushed up within an inch of their life, her smoky makeup (courtesy of V) brought out the blue in her eyes and she did brushed out retro pin curls so her hair curled softly around her face. She thought she looked great, so why was she so damn nervous? She checked the condoms in her nightstand for the thousandth time when she heard the window pop open behind her. 

Spinning instantly on her heel she watched as Juggy climbed through the window delicately and shut it silently before fully seeing her. She stepped out of the shadows as he lifted his head and his mouth immediately fell open as he took her in. 

“Betty...holy fucking shit.” he said throatily, swiping the beanie off his head and nervously holding it in his hands. “I don’t even know where to...how do I touch you?” he fumbled, eyes panning up and down her body a million times.

Walking slowly up to him with a saunter that she’d never claimed in her life, Betty bit down on her lip and looked up at him through her thick lashes. Reaching out to run a hand down his chest, Juggy tilted his head back and let out a low groan. Betty leaned in and slowly ran her tongue from the hollow of his throat up to the tip of his chin. She felt him shudder under her touch and any nerves she had previously felt evaporated on the spot. 

As she kissed her way up his neck, she slipped her hand down his front, palming the growing bulge outside of his jeans. She felt his groan rumble through his chest and smiled as he kissed his way down her breasts. Betty reached for the hem of his “S” t-shirt and pulled it over his head. She made quick work of his jeans and soon her beloved Juggy was standing there in his boxers, hers for the taking.

Jughead may be the loner, Holden Caulfield-type, but all that labor on Mr. Andrews’ construction site had done his body good. He was lean, toned and had that insane V on his hips that Betty wanted to run her tongue down. She stepped up to him and gave him a long kiss that had him lifting her so she felt him hard against her stomach. Letting out a groan from deep in her throat, Betty knew the tiny scrap of fabric between her legs was soaked completely through. Thinking back to class earlier that day, Betty had a sly smile on her face as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Palming his cock through his boxers, Betty moaned as she felt him getting harder in her hand. 

“Betty, baby, you don’t have to…”

“Juggy, shut up and let me suck you.” Betty slipped his boxers down off his hips and grinned widely as his cock sprang up to meet her mouth. Betty didn’t have any sexual experience outside of Jughead, but she had watched enough porn to know that he was  _ very  _ well-endowed, and she very blessed. 

Smiling up at him, she wrapped her fist around the base of him and savored his groan as she pumped her hand down his entire length. Her tongue flicked out to swipe the drop of precum that was on his tip. Closing her eyes, she ran her tongue over his velvet tip one more time before wrapping her lips around him and sucking him deep into her mouth. 

“Fuck Betty,” Juggy moaned through gritted teeth. His hands reached down to grip her hair as she began sliding her mouth up and down his cock. Jughead always felt badly when Betty gave him head, but Betty fucking loved it because it was the biggest power rush she had ever felt. In those moments, she was in complete control -- and she knew that Dark Betty inside her loved being in control. Feeling him swell in her mouth, she leaned forward to take him deeper. Needing relief more than ever, she slipped her other hand down the mesh panties to right where the silk cherry covered her clit. She moaned on Jughead’s dick as she began rubbing herself furiously. Jughead looked down and groaned so loudly she worried it would wake her parents.

“Betty, I’m not going to last like this, I need to be in you,” Jughead panted. He lifted Betty away from his cock and settled her over the bed. He frantically began unhooking her bustier, growling as her breasts sprang free. He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth as he made quick work of the rest of the hooks. The last hook undone, he threw the bustier across the room and kneaded her nipple. Lifting her hips to help him make quick work of her panties, he pulled them down off her legs and settled himself at her entrance. 

Betty looked down and could see Jughead’s thick tip almost in her and lifted her hips with a groan. Jughead’s cock throbbed and slipped a little into her soaked pussy. Together they groaned simultaneously. Jughead had a pained look in his eyes and said through gritted teeth, “Betty, baby we need a condom.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. She wriggled a bit more and he slid even further into her. It felt so good, she couldn’t stop wrapping her legs around him and using her feet to push him in even deeper. 

“Jughead, I’m on birth control, please,” she pleaded, desperate to keep that feeling of him bare inside her. He looked at her with questioning eyes and briefly nodded before he pushed himself completely into the hilt, eyes rolling back into his head. They both moaned together as Jughead began driving into her, over and over again. Betty rolled her hips up to meet him, thrust for thrust, gasping each time he hit that one spot that made her see stars behind her eyes. She felt the pressure building inside her and reached her hand down to once again rub her clit while Juggy filled her. She watched him in rapture as sweat trickled down his chest and the veins bulged in his arms, fingers digging into her hips. Betty could feel her orgasm building as she lifted her head to kiss him. Their mouths met one final time before the pressure exploded over her body, ripping a groan from her mouth and sending fireworks through her veins. Jughead let out one final, long moan and laid his forehead against hers as he pumped into her. She could feel his cock convulsing inside her and Juggy’s pulse jumping as she placed her mouth on his neck. He collapsed onto her and she smiled as she felt his breathing steady, running the tips of her nails up and down his bare back while she caught her breath. 

She heard a low chuckle against her neck and pulled her head away to look her boyfriend in the eyes. She saw the gleam in them and her lips quickly pulled into a smile.

“What?” she asked, clenching her pussy a final time which elicited a low groan from Juggy. Slipping out of her, he braced himself on his elbows on top of her. She pushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead as he smiled her favorite sheepish smile down at her. 

“You were right,” he said with a smirk.

“My three favorite words,” she responded instantly, “but what was I right about?”

“You’re much stronger than you look, Betty Cooper. And let me tell you -- you look fucking incredible.”

With a Cheshire Cat grin spreading widely across her face, she stretched under Jughead and repositioned herself so her soaked entry met the tip of his cock. 

Kissing her way down his neck, she replied, “My goal was that you’d never be able to look at another cherry again without thinking of me cumming underneath you.” She ran her fingers down his back and felt his cock grow against her pussy. Sliding herself down a fraction of an inch, she smiled up at him wickedly as he groaned loudly.

His hot length slid into her easily as she gasped and instinctively wrapped her legs around him. His arms reached under her so they were literally as close together as two humans could possibly be. Grunting quietly with each thrust, Jughead said into her ear, “You should just be thankful I’m young and have such insatiable stamina.”

With a quick flip, she had him on his back and staring up at her as her breasts swung in front of him. 

“Let me show you exactly how thankful I am, Jughead Jones...”

 

\---

 

The morning light poured in through the gauzy drapes that blew with the soft breeze from the open window. A quick chill had Betty nestling further under the covers, reaching instinctively for Jughead. When all she found was warm, but empty sheets, she begrudgingly opened her eyes and looked for her favorite misfit. Jughead was nowhere to be found, but Betty’s frown quickly quirked up into a smile as she saw the note on her nightstand -- complete with two bright-red cherries. 

_ Betty Dream-girl Cooper,  _

_ I didn’t want to wake you, but -- well, that’s a lie, but the way I wanted to wake you wouldn’t have made for a quiet morning. You continue to surprise me, and take my breath away, on a regular basis. I plan on keeping you. See you tonight at the Pussycats’ gig. Perhaps you should continue with the cherry theme and wear something red -- it suits your dark side. _

_ I love you, _

_ JJ _

 

A wide smile settled on Betty’s face as she buried herself back under her covers. She had almost forgotten about the Pussycats’ gig tonight at the Breakfast Club -- Riverdale’s only nightlife institution -- as the final stop on their first national tour. That gave her just enough time to call V and scour the local boutiques for something sexy enough to stop traffic. Throwing one of the cherries into her mouth, she twisted the stem between her fingers as she pictured herself walking into the club in something bold enough to make Jughead’s jaw drop. She bit into the sweet fruit and hoped it would be enough to give her the confidence she needed to embrace the new Betty -- and talk to Jughead about the other cherries she’d like popped. 

 

\---


	2. Chapter 2

Betty dragged a ballerina-pink nail across the dress-laden hangers in the third boutique she and Veronica had visited in the last two hours. Thumbing her fingers across the different fabrics and colors, she could hear V muttering “Nope, nope, nope” and the shuffle of rejected dresses across the store. After trying on what seemed like 5,000 bandage dresses, she was feeling dejected. Veronica had found this amazing silver slip dress at the first boutique, so she was all set for the Pussycats’ final stop of their concert tour at The Breakfast Club tonight, but Betty was searching for something  _ different _ \-- something that didn’t scream, “Oh look, there goes pretty in pink Betty Cooper.” She let out a huff of frustration as she pulled another skin-tight black dress off the rack and pursed her lips.

“What the long face, babycakes?” Veronica appeared with a waft of jasmine perfume and the click of a stiletto.

Betty faced her best friend and held the slinky LBD up against her body. Eyebrows raised, she asked, “What do you think?”

Burgundy-slicked lips pursed in silent response. “But I thought we were going for a red dress? You know, Dark Betty goes crimson? It’s very film noir and I’m dying to post a Snap of you in black and white.”

Betty sighed in exasperation and hung the dress back on the rack. “I really want the red dress, but so far -- no such luck. The cherry lingerie was very...well received,” she said with a hot blush rising in her cheeks. “And I want to live up to the expectations Dark Betty established last night.” She turned and faced Veronica and lowered her voice, “More than anything though, I got a taste of this incredible power last night, V. It was...intoxicating. I don’t know if it was the lingerie or just the way I felt, but I want to feel that way all the time.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows and smiled in approval. “Bets, after the crazy stressful semester you’ve had, I think you’ve earned the right to feel as powerful as you want. You’ve been slammed at both school and  _ The Register.  _ You’re a grown ass woman who wants to feel powerful, so go out there, get a goddamn red dress and grab your power.”

Eyebrows sky-high into her hairline, Betty started slow-clapping. “Jesus V, that was seriously almost as good as the  _ Miracle on Ice  _ speech.”

“I know, right? I was really feeling it. I’m acing my broadcast journalism class and I think I could be the next Oprah -- except sassier and better-dressed,” she quipped with a wink. “How about this: Let’s get shoes and accessories here and then we can focus on the dress after a much-needed frapp and scone break.”

Betty bit her lip as her brow furrowed. “Ronnie, we’ve been to three boutiques already and haven’t found anything. At this rate, we’ll have to go dumpster-diving on the Southside to find what I’m looking for.”

“Well, I didn’t want to mention this before we caffeinated, but if you want a badass red dress, you know who we have to call, right?”

Betty looked at her quizzically.

“Take one guess, Nightmare Smurfette.”

Betty’s eyes lit up in recognition. She laughed behind her hands and nodded her head. “Yes, I know who we have to call.”

 

\---

 

“Hello, former Vixen bitches!” A cloud of Dior Poison wafted through the entryway of Veronica’s apartment, followed by the sound of a rolling garment rack. 

“Is that the one, the only, Cheryl Blossom I hear?” answered Ronnie with a dramatic flair. 

The ginger beauty sashayed into the living room with a dramatic flip of her signature waist-length hair. “Yours truly, peasants,” she said with a delicate curtsy. 

In Betty’s eyes, Cheryl was the epitome of a true success story. After that horrible year where she lost her brother and father, her mother checked herself permanently into a wellness facility in Aspen -- leaving Cheryl to fend for herself in Riverdale. Cheryl, determined to revitalize her family name and maple syrup business, graduated early at the top of the class and went immediately to Harvard to study business. She had her top choice of Ivy League schools but chose Harvard because it was top-rated and their crimson hue closely matched her signature color. While at school, she worked with internationally-renowned chemists and used her family’s syrup reserves to create a luxury skincare line. Blossom Beauty is now the primary line of revenue for Blossom Industries and has the shareholders eating out of Cheryl’s hand. As if that weren’t enough, she is a doting, if not dramatic, aunt and frequently comes home from Cambridge to visit her niece and nephew. Success fit her nearly as perfectly as her scarlett leather gloves.

Cheryl, outfitted in a red and white plaid shift dress with a matching cape, sat down on the settee nearest Betty, looked her up and down and let out a disappointed “tsk.”

“Just look at you -- my poor little bumpkin Betty. Dearest Ronniekins here phoned me regarding your little dilemma and I dropped everything and immediately came from the newly-renovated Thornhill to help remedy the situation. Luckily for you and your sad little wardrobe, I’ve been curating a collection of crimson couture since I was a darling wee babe. That being said, I’ve selected a handful of pieces that I think would be most appropriate for the Pussycat soiree this evening. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart, despite the fact that you’re using my clothing as a tool to bone that beanie-wearing hobo Jughead Jones.”

“Hold the phone, evil Jessica Rabbit,” Veronica retorted playfully. “My darling B is actually undergoing a self-reinvention and wants to channel her inner bad bitch. This is strictly for her and her evolution as a powerful woman.” Veronica leaned over and high-fived Betty as she raised a singular eyebrow in Cheryl’s direction.

Cheryl clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh my god, this is Betty’s  _ Devil Wears Prada  _ transformation. She’s about to metamorphosize from a sweater-set-wearing, uptight caterpillar into a scarlett-bedecked, HBIC butterfly. This is my Meryl moment.”

Ronnie’s brows raised in dismay simultaneously with the scowl on her pert mouth. “Wait, if you’re Meryl, than who am I?

Cheryl side-eyed Ronnie with expert precision. “Stanley Tucci, of course, you troll.”

Veronica huffed as Betty let out a sharp chuckle. “Cheryl, I seriously appreciate your help, but you’re a bit smaller than me…”

“That’s because I sustain myself only the envy of others and my ambition -- but leave it to me and V.”

She pulled the rack toward Veronica and the two immediately began conspiring on the individual dresses in increasing levels of dramatics.

“I think this is too burgundy, yes?”

“Are you insulting my variation of reds, little Veronica? I’ll have you know that my hair is the perfect blend of both pure red and copper, so burgundy sets off those tones flawlessly.”

“Don’t get your panties in wad, Cheryl, I was simply speaking to Betty’s hair and coloring…”

“Please don’t mention my underthings, cretin.”

“GUYS,” Betty said loudly over the cacophony of Veronica and Cheryl’s arguing. “I can already tell you which dress on that rack I’m going to wear.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes with a loud huff. “Betty, I put some serious thought into curating this selection for your little bombshell-inspired revamp, so the very least you can do is give me a quality makeover montage to work with here.”

Betty rose off the settee and walked to the rack. She plucked one of the center hangers off the cold iron bar and held it against her body, lips pursed and eyebrows raised in silent question at her well-intentioned, but demented fairy godmothers.

Veronica’s face immediately erupted into a wide smile as she answered, “Excellent choice, dollface.” She turned toward Cheryl expectantly.

Cheryl crossed her arms over her chest with a small frown. “Fine! Perhaps that may be the best option for your prepubescent body, but I still think you should be forced to try on all the options.”

Veronica shooed Betty to the closet to try the dress on while she placated Cheryl. “Let’s go make a Manhattan, shall we? And you can tell me where you got those amazing Louboutins…” 

Betty faintly heard Cheryl respond, “As if you could afford them,” before shutting the door to the closet. She turned and found herself facing the full-length, antique gilded mirror in V’s closet for the second time in as many days. Hanging the dress reverently on the dressform next to the mirror, she quickly peeled herself out of her jeans and sweater and pulled the tight ponytail from her hair. Slipping the smooth fabric over her head, she quickly fastened her newly-purchased stilettos and opened the door. 

“Guys!” she yelled toward the kitchen. “I’m ready for what’s sure to be a demeaning inspection!”

She walked into the kitchen and directly into Ronnie’s line of sight. Quite unlike her cool and composed self, V’s eyes grew wide and she coughed into her cocktail. Cheryl turned and a smug smile settled on her face.

“Well, well, well Miss Cooper -- who knew you had it in you?

Veronica had a hand over her heart when she earnestly responded, “Seriously Bets, you look insane. Like some dream-girl version of your actual self.”

Betty’s mind quickly returned to Jughead’s note from the morning. “That’s exactly what I’m going for,” she said with a soft smile. “But, Cheryl, I literally have no idea what underwear you wear with this dress.”

Cheryl let out a quiet laugh while Veronica shrugged sheepishly next to her. 

“Oh darling girl, that’s because you don’t wear any.”

 

\---

 

Betty followed closely behind Veronica as they pushed their way past the bouncer and into The Breakfast Club. She could feel the  _ thump-thump-thump  _ of the bass inside her chest, beating in time with the top 40 remix the DJ was playing. The strobe lights flashed across the club, highlighting quick glimpses of people mingling, grinding, flirting. Veronica held her hand as she navigated their way to the bar, squeezing their way through the dozens and dozens of people who had crammed in to see Josie and her band’s final performance of the year. Finally reaching a break in the crowd at the bar, Betty pulled her hair over her shoulder as she felt a light breeze tickle her bare back. The fire-engine red dress hit her at mid-thigh and dipped into a low V in the front, coming to a point right below her small -- albeit, in their defense, perky -- breasts. Her mouth quirked up into a small smile as she thought about what she considered the dress’ show-stopper feature. Her back was completely bare all the way to the little dimples right above her ass. Ronnie had curled her hair into loose waves and Cheryl had even given her the lipstick -- maple flavored, of course -- that matched the dress perfectly. Even her stilettos were red -- decked out in velvet with a bow that topped the stacked heel. She felt powerful and sexy and  _ very  _ Dark Betty.

“Earth to Bets!”

Veronica’s sharp snap in front of her nose broke her trance. “Sorry, I guess I was daydreaming,” she replied with a small grin.

Veronica let out a small chuckle. “Hell dollface, with the way you look, I’d be surprised if I didn’t start daydreaming about you soon,” she commented with a wink.

“Me?!” Betty replied. “Look at you, V! That dress was made for your body and I still can’t get over how amazing you look with long hair.” Veronica let out a sassy wink and turned to get the bartender’s attention.

After her parents’ arrest, Veronica had turned to yoga to ground herself and find some solace. She was now a certified yogi with the long, lean limbs and quiet grace to prove it. She taught several classes at Lotus Blossom Studio -- owned by Cheryl, of course -- and was always giving Betty techniques for stress relief. Her silver slip dress hung closely to her lithe frame and she had artfully arranged her messy curls into a loose, complicated braid that hung over her shoulder. 

Veronica turned with two Manhattans in hand. Passing one to Betty, she grabbed four maraschino cherries off the bar and lightly dropped them in Betty’s drink. In response to Betty’s singular raised eyebrow, Veronica responded, “What? They’re basically like your signature symbol now. You totally stole them from Cheryl and for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Betty rolled her eyes with a quick chuckle and looked at her phone. 10:30 PM. The Pussycats would be on soon, but she knew that Jughead and Archie wouldn’t be there for another half an hour. Downing her Manhattan with a stiff swallow, she grabbed Veronica’s hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor. 

“Whoa, Betty Bolt, hold your horses, would you? I haven’t finished my drink.”

“Drink it down, V. Dark Betty feels like dancing,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. 

Eyebrows raised, Veronica drained her Manhattan and slammed the glass onto the bar. “Well then. Lead the way, dear heart, because what Dark Betty wants, Dark Betty gets.”

Betty grabbed Veronica’s hand and led her out onto the packed dancefloor. They pushed their way into the main throng of people and Betty let herself give in to the music.

 

\---

 

Having danced non-stop for song after song, Betty felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back, racing the one moving down her decolletage. She lifted the hair off the back of her neck and swayed to the beat. 

She felt a presence move in behind her and before she could turn, she heard Archie’s voice yell, “Hey Ronnie, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?” 

Veronica bit on her lip in laughter as Betty whirled around in surprise. 

“Archie!”

Archie’s eyes widened and his jaw almost hit the floor when he took in the face of his childhood best friend.

“Holy shit, Betty, I thought...I thought that you were someone else.”

Betty couldn’t contain her laughter anymore and both she and Ronnie broke down, laughing hysterically. A bold flush had risen high on Archie’s cheeks, battling fiercely with his ginger hair.

Betty smiled back up at her old friend as she patted his cheek lightly. “Arch, it’s fine. It’s a new look, I know. What do you think Juggy will say?”

“You can ask him for yourself, here he comes.”

Jughead pushed up to Archie, two beers in hand, wearing a white tee with his signature “S”, but no beanie in sight. His tousled hair was falling into his eyes in a way that pulled at her heartstrings. 

“Hey man, you’re welcome for the beer. You know I hate clubs, even ones named after my favorite angsty 80s movie.” He looked around, eyes passing over Betty despite her being a few feet away from him.

“Hey, do you know where Betty…” His eyes finally locked on hers and she bit her lip as a shy smile formed on her face. Eyes not leaving his, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and did a slow circle, eyes snapping back to his as he saw the expanse of her bare back. 

Mouth slightly open, eyes glazed over, Jughead hadn’t said a single word yet in reaction to Betty’s new look. 

Eyes clouding in self-doubt, Betty reached for him and questioned, “Juggy?”

Somehow springing to life, he reached out and grabbed Betty’s hand and pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself completely around her and cementing his lips to hers. She let out a little “Oomf!” of surprise and then settled into the kiss, wrapping her hands around his neck and running her fingers through the locks that just reached the collar of his shirt. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she could taste the maltiness of his beer and something sweet. His hand ran down her back and settled on her ass, giving it a light squeeze. A quiet moan escaped Betty and she pressed her hips forward, seeking relief against the prominent bulge in Jughead’s dark denim jeans.

“Ahem!” said Archie loudly, somewhere in the distance.

Betty and Jughead reluctantly pulled apart and let the lights and noise of the club fill the air around them. Jughead smiled that shy smile of his down at Betty and she reached to rub the red lipstick off his face. Archie ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. 

“We are blatantly in public, you guys.”

“Oh Archiekins, stop being such a spoilsport,” said Veronica, still quasi-dancing around them. She grabbed Archie’s hands and whirled him around in a circle. “Besides, it was deliciously sexy, if I do say so myself. It was like watching a modern day James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, but with more blatant sexual tension and fewer painkillers.”

Jughead quirked a small smile on his lips. “Uh, thanks Ronnie.”

She planted a playful kiss on his cheek. “Enjoy my masterpiece, Mr. Jones.”

Archie still looked baffled as Veronica grabbed his hand and led him toward the bar. Jughead grabbed Betty’s hand and took her to a dark, quiet corner on the far side of the bar. Once alone, Betty turned toward Jughead and stepped back into his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around her and settled on her hips. 

“Hi, dream girl.”

Betty smiled and placed a gentle peck on her boyfriend’s lips. “What do you think?”

“What do I think? I don’t think I formed a single thought for the first thirty seconds that I saw you.”

Betty scoffed, “I know! You terrified me, I thought you didn’t like it!”

Juggy’s eyes looked at her in complete skepticism. “Didn’t like it? Are you serious? Betty Cooper, you look…” He stepped back to fully appraise her new look. “ I can’t put into words how you look, but all I know is that I’ve been hard since I saw you and I want to fight every man that has looked in your direction since the beginning of time.”

Betty playfully rolled her eyes. “No one else is looking at me.”

Jughead raised his eyebrows in challenge. “False, literally everyone with a penis is looking at you, including Kevin who has been giving me the thumbs up for the last five minutes.” Jughead waved halfheartedly over her head toward the corner of the bar where Kevin must have been. 

Betty laughed fully and Jughead pulled her back into his embrace. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “Everyone is staring at your ass and it’s making me very possessive.” He slid his large, rough palm over her ass and squeezed, nipping at her shoulder lightly with his teeth. 

Betty’s sharp intake of air was the only signal Juggy needed and he pressed his hard cock into her stomach. “Let’s just leave -- we can go back and hang out at the trailer,” Jughead said with a sly smile in his voice.

Feeling his warm hand still on her ass, Betty looked up to Juggy and replied, “Well, now that you mention it, I’d like to start where we left off last night.” With a quick kiss on his lips, she gathered her courage. Jughead had been so open with her last night and she had dreamed of telling him her dirtiest fantasy since they first had sex. Thinking they were finally ready, she said, “Juggy, I’d like to try something new -- maybe we could…” Betty felt her courage falter and looked off into the crowd.

Jughead tucked a finger back under her chin and pulled her eyes back to his. “Hey, it’s okay. What do you want to try? Reverse cowgirl or something?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

Swallowing her pride, Betty licked her lips and said, “No, Juggy -- actually, I’ve always wanted to try...anal.”

Jughead’s eyes popped out of his head and his mouth formed a round “O” in surprise. Eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, he squeaked out, “Anal? Seriously?”

Betty nodded shyly. “Yes, I’ve wanted to for awhile now. Well, I watched this guy-on-guy porn back in highschool and that kind of jump started the fantasy, so--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Betty. I’m all for experimenting, but you’ve had a seriously challenging couple of years. What happened to taking it slow?” Jughead looked at her skeptically and it frustrated her beyond words.

Betty shook her head to clear the liquor-induced fog from her mind. “Jughead, I never wanted to take it slow! You made that decision without me. I want to experiment and be rough and have it out with each other…”

“Jesus Betty, where is this coming from? We had mind-blowing sex last night and now you’re bringing this up? Was that not enough for you?”

“Juggy,  _ of course  _ it was enough for me!” Betty said pleadingly. 

“Well, somehow we’re now discussing your desire to have angry anal, so I don’t think it did.”

Betty’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “ _ Angry anal?! _ Are you serious, Jughead? I suggest one fantasy to you and you blow it way out of proportion. What happened to being honest with each other?”

Frustration racked Jughead’s expression -- his eyes were fraught with it and he kept running his hands through his hair. Betty was honestly baffled by his reaction. 

“You want to be honest, Betty? I think I can’t be what you need right now.” Jughead stormed off in the opposite direction toward the side exit.

“Jughead!” Betty yelled across the club, her voice lost in the music. Distraught, she sat down in a booth and held her head in her hands, trying to process what the hell just happened. Breathing heavy and trying to hold back tears, she pushed herself up and searched desperately for Veronica. It was like she sent a Betty Beacon in the air, because Ronnie immediately made eye contact across the room and was by her side in less than a minute. 

Gripping her hands, dark eyes full of concerned looked into hers. “Bets, what happened?! One minute you’re jonesing all over the Jones boy and the next I see him storming out of the club!”

Betty wiped a stray tear furiously off her face. “Ugh, V, I brought up the damn anal fantasy. It was too much too soon.”

V’s eyes went wide. “Ooh, you brought up  _ the  _ anal fantasy. Like the tied-up, face-down…”

Betty shook her head in exasperation. “No, I didn’t even make it that far! I barely mentioned the  _ idea  _ and he ran off, saying something about how we needed to take it slow and that he can’t be what I need. God, what did I do?!”

Veronica’s face was full of sympathy as she rubbed circles into Betty’s bare back. “Well, babycakes, perhaps the club wasn’t the  _ best  _ place to have this discussion, but I’m sure he will come around. I think he probably just felt bombarded.”

Betty finally registered the loud music and flashing strobes and realized how out of his element Jughead would have been in that moment.

“Ugh, you’re so right, V. I made such a mess of things,” she said, hands covering her face.

“Do you know where he might have gone?”

Betty looked toward the exit. “Probably to the trailer. He’s been staying there while FP is out of town. I should go.”

Betty quickly hugged Veronica and made her way to the exit, regret pulsing through her veins. As the exit door closed behind her, she heard the DJ cut the music.

_ “Ladies and gents, please give a huge Riverdale welcome to international pop phenoms, Josie & the Pussycats!” _

 

___

Betty opened the Uber door and stumbled as her heel sank into the soft, muddy ground. The air smelled of bonfires and damp grass; and the sky was lit with stars and a full harvest moon at Moccasin Manor trailer park. Moccasin Manor was close to the where Juggy’s beloved Twilight Drive-In once stood before Mr. Andrews tore it down while they were in high school. That project stalled after Veronica’s parents went to prison, so now the lot stood abandoned and was prime Serpent territory. Betty visited often, so FP had told the rest of the Serpents that she could roam freely and wasn’t to be bothered. He and Juggy may have had their problems in the past, but you couldn’t help but appreciate having powerful connections -- even if it was with the Serpents. 

She felt the crunch of gravel under her feet as she made her way back to FP’s trailer near the rear of the park. A shiver chased down her back and goosebumps raised fast and furious on her arms and bare back. FP had been out of town visiting Jellybean in Toledo, so Jughead had been staying to keep an eye on the trailer. As she approached his lot, a delicate frown formed on her lips. Jughead’s motorcycle wasn’t parked in its usual spot, but Betty could see a soft light shining through the small kitchen window. Betty’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Ever since FP had been arrested in connection with Jason Blossom’s death, local punks had taken it upon themselves to vandalize his trailer -- despite the fact that he was found completely innocent and didn’t serve any jail time for protecting the Serpents. 

Betty quickly snagged the spare key from under the faux rock near the front door and quietly let herself into the trailer. The blast of warm heat rolled over her as she quickly looked around the small living area. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she couldn’t risk turning on the light and revealing herself. After getting her bearings, she could immediately sense two things out of place. First, filling her nose was a musky, male -- was that sandlewood? -- scent. She disturbingly found the smell very sexy. Creeped out by her own thoughts, she quickly shook the idea from her mind. Secondly, she could hear the shower running near the bedroom. 

“What the fuck are these kids doing?!” Betty thought incredulously. Grabbing the baseball bat that permanently resided near the front door, Betty walked slowly to the bathroom, taking note of the steam pouring into the hallway from the cracked door. Mind reeling, Betty reached the entry and held her breath in fear and anticipation. A fresh wave of the sandalwood scent hit her pert nose. In a move she knew was either brave or stupid, she slowly pushed open the bathroom door inch by inch until she could fully see the mirror in front of the shower. Fog was delicately creeping along the edges of the mirror when Betty dropped the bat into the shag carpet with a barely-there  _ thud  _ as she took in the culprit. 

Her eyes wide and mouth slack-jawed, Betty took in a dripping-wet, buck-naked FP Jones, water rolling down his body as he stood under the steamy spray. Shock hit her like a ton of bricks and her jerk reaction was to cover her eyes and run, but her feet refused to move, planting themselves into the soft carpet. Betty had always secretly thought that FP was pretty sexy for a dad, but the sight of him like this took those thoughts to another level. Leaning against the far end of the shower, the glass wall did nothing to hide him from her view. Although, she knew she couldn’t have looked away if she tried. FP was a tall man, muscles tight and tan and so... _ wet.  _ Betty felt herself inhale a small gasp as her eyes took in FP’s chiseled chest that was lightly covered in dark hair, curling in the steamy heat. 

Betty snapped out of her haze when FP let out a small grunt. She immediately hid herself behind the wall, eyes peeking over the doorframe to see what might have caused the noise. Another involuntary gasp left her lips when she took in what was happening in the trailer shower. FP, leaning against the back shower wall, eyes lightly closed in concentration, was running his hand up and down his cock, slowly pumping up and down, over and over again. Betty stood fixated as he let out small grunts in time with his hard, determined hand motions. He moved off the back wall and braced himself against the glass front of the shower, right hand still furiously rubbing his cock. A low groan escaped his lips and Betty herself had to bite back a quiet moan as she felt the hot heat pooling in between her legs. Nipples hard and begging to be touched, Betty couldn’t believe herself when she gently pulled the delicate strap of her dress over her shoulder, exposing her nipple to the warm, steaming air. Teeth tormenting her bottom lip, her hand was possessed by her own need as her fingers started lightly toying and pinching her nipple. 

FP’s huge hand was pumping his cock in a way that had Betty salivating. She saw him swipe a huge bead of precum off the top of his head and couldn’t contain the moan that escaped her. FP’s head jerked up in surprise and his eyes instantaneously met hers in the mirror. Frozen to the spot, hard nipple still exposed to the air, Betty’s mouth hung open as FP took in the sight of her -- flushed, panting and eyes begging him to continue. He stared at her for five painful seconds, and then -- to Betty’s equal shock and delight -- his mouth set into a small smirk and a single eyebrow was raised at her in challenge as his hand slowly began rubbing his thick cock again, base to tip, over and over. Feeling bolder than she had ever felt in her entire life, Betty started toying with her nipple again while he stared directly into her eyes, bringing himself close to climax. His small grunts and groans grew louder as he raised his eyebrows and nodded at her skirt. Betty, immediately understanding him without any need for words, lifted the silky hem of her red dress slowly up, gasping as the air hit her soaked pussy lips. She held the hem in her left hand as her right drifted slowly down, fingers dragging over her smooth, bare skin. His eyes were glued to her, demanding her hand downward with every second. They both groaned simultaneously as her fingers finally ran over her clit. Eyes not leaving his, she used some of her hot slickness and furiously began rubbing her clit in time with his accelerated pumps. Breasts aching and pressure building low in her stomach, she knew she was close to cumming. Their moans mingled together in the steamy air as they watched each other get off. FP’s grunts grew louder and louder until he came violently with a growled  _ “Betty”  _  leaving his lips. 

Her name on his tongue was all it took to push Betty over the edge, stars and heat exploding behind her eyes. She moaned long and low as she came undone in front of her boyfriend’s father. She came back down to Earth, basking in that delicious, post-orgasm warmth. Regaining her senses, Betty panted lightly for breath as her legs grew heavy and unsteady. Her hand instantly dropped the hem of her dress as she took in FP against the glass wall of the shower, eyes shut and chest heaving while his cum ran down the drain. All it took was half a moment for panic and realization to take over. By the time FP let out a final, shaky sigh and looked to the door with a wry smile, Betty was gone, gravel stones and tears flying behind her as she ran away from Moccasin Manor. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Cheers to all those that reviewed and commented! Also, a big thank you to those readers with an open mind! I know this fanfic defies the standard Riverdale ships (and angers you die-hard Bughead shippers), but I can't resist, so I shan't. Happy reading! :)

Out of breath and panting with stress and exhaustion, Betty slammed the door of her bedroom shut with a panicked huff. She kicked her shoes off against her white shabby chic dresser while mascara-laden tears ran down her face. Hiccupping against her will in between quiet sobs, she rubbed the back of her hands over her face, smearing the black residue left over from the night’s events across her blotchy face. She pulled the hem of the dress over her head and threw it into the hamper with disgust and shame. Her bare feet padded quickly across the cold floor as she ran to her bathroom, desperate to wash the shame off her body.

Betty quickly closed the bathroom door, turned on the shower to full heat and let the steam slowly surround her. She could feel her panic and desperation rack her body, the full blown impact of her panic attack forcing her breathing into a shallow shadow of itself, causing her heart to beat vividly against her chest, keeping the time of her attack like a demented metronome. She slid her back down against the back of the door, settling onto the bathroom mat while she let the cool black and white floor tile against her cheek root her to the ground and blanket her stress. Groping for the clutch she had haphazardly thrown on the floor, she found her phone that immediately lit in recognition at her touch. Eyes bleary with tears, she saw the dozens of texts Ronnie had sent her over the course of the last hour or so.

Her fingers fumbling against the glass, she texted her best friend.

_“I did something horrible.”_

The three little gray dots that indicated Veronica was replying instantaneously floated to the top of her notifications like a beacon of hope.

_“Thank God you responded, I was about to send out the cavalry. Horrible like I need to help you bury a body or horrible like I need to bring several pints of ice cream STAT?”_

Despite herself, a wry smile formed on Betty’s tear-stained face.

_"No body, but in desperate need of ice cream. Please hurry.”_

Betty put the phone on her vanity and stepped into the steam. She sighed audibly as the stifling hot water cascaded down her back, soaking the curl out of her hair and flattening it into a thick golden sheet. Grabbing some face wash, she slowly rubbed the mascara and leftover makeup off her face, almost falling into a trance from the soothing motion. She soaked her loofah thoroughly with her honeysuckle body wash and furiously scrubbed her body, leaving red marks in angry streaks across her skin. She leaned back against the shower wall as her thoughts ran through her head in a frenzy.

Moments from the night flashed through her memory like scenes from a cut movie reel. The wonder in Jughead’s face when he first saw her and his incredulous hurt when they fought later on. FP’s bold grin and quick eyebrow raise when their eyes connected and the low guttural noise he made when he came all over the shower. A shiver ran down her back as she thought of it. Whether it was one of repulsion or arousal, she didn’t know and did not want to consider. Deep in thought, Betty took a shuddering breath as the scent of honeysuckle surrounded her, calming her and lulling her to sleep.

A quiet but forceful knock interrupted her internal monologue and scattered her thoughts down the drain.

“Bets, are you okay? Let me in!”

Betty turned off the shower and wrapped the warm yellow towel hung on the glass hook nearby around her dripping body. She quickly opened the door and saw Veronica’s eyes blink against the wall of steam that hit her face.

“Whoa, nice sauna setup.” Eyes now laced with concern, she grabbed Betty by the elbows and surveyed her thoroughly. “What happened, Bets? Are you okay? Did you work things out with Jughead?”

The sound of his name on Ronnie’s lips was like the final nail in the coffin, the final stab in the heart and the final breaking point for Betty. As if they’d been building up for years, a stream of tears erupted from her eyes instantaneously. A low sob escaped her without her consent as her body folded into itself.

Dark, manicured eyebrows furrowed in instant worry. “Oh no, Bets, it’s okay! Whatever it is we can fix it! Nothing can be worse than what happened in high school, for God’s sake!”

Through hiccupping sobs, Betty responded, “But it is!”

Eyebrows now raised in skepticism, Ronnie replied, “B, unless you murdered a power family’s rich ginger son because he ruined the family dynasty and was running away with his pregnant third cousin, I think we’re in the clear.”

Looking up to the smirk that graced Veronica’s face, she burst into a fit of giggles that had her stomach aching. Falling back onto the bed, she let the humor of the moment push out the desperation for just a brief respite.

V fell back onto her bed right beside her. Betty noticed her eggplant colored silk pajamas for the first time and felt a flash of admiration. Looking Betty in the eye, Ronnie asked, “Really, Bets -- what could possibly be so bad?”

Betty scrunched her eyes in effort and let out a long sigh. Turning toward V, she said low and resigned, “I cheated on Juggy tonight.”

Like a slingshot or a bat out of hell, Veronica catapulted off the bed and turned toward Betty, eyes wide and searching.

“I’m sorry, what? What did you just say?”

Betty sat up, looked down at her open palms and shrugged. “I didn’t mean to, but it happened and I’m not even sure where to begin telling the story.”

Expressive eyebrows still near her hairline, Ronnie replied, “At the beginning, of course. Start when you left The Breakfast Club.”

Taking a deep breath for courage, Betty told the story, not forgoing a single lurid detail. Like any proper best friend, Veronica gasped in all the right places, offering Betty solace when she didn’t deserve any. After she reached the end of the story, Veronica sat in silence for almost two minutes, a minute and a half longer than her previous record. Mouth gaping in question, she looked at Betty head on and saw the blatant shame in her eyes. Finally recovering her wits, she let out a loud sigh.

“Holy fucking shit, Bets.”

Betty let out a dry laugh and raised her hands to cover her eyes. “Trust me, I know.”

Veronica surveyed Betty with a discerning eye. She grabbed Betty’s blue fluffy robe off the hook on the bathroom door and threw it to her on the bed.

“Okay, first things first. You need to get cozy before we go any further, so get in your PJs and I’ll grab the ice cream.”

By the time Betty came out of the bathroom, clad in her warmest flannel pajamas and damp hair braided behind her back, Ronnie had commandeered her bed, opened two pints of ice cream and turned on Betty’s favorite movie, _The Holiday._ Betty sent up a silent prayer in thanks for best friends and Jude Law.

Betty settled into bed next to Veronica and took the opened pint of black raspberry chocolate chip out of her hands. Shoving a large spoonful into her mouth, her eyes turned toward Ronnie in expectation.

“Well? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Veronica took a bite of her mocha ice cream and turned to Betty. “Bets, I don’t think you really cheated on Juggy in this situation, but you are in a world of trouble my friend.”

Betty raised in eye in question. “No shit, Sherlock, but how on earth was that not cheating? I masturbated with someone else. I didn’t touch him, but it was _very_ intentional.”

Veronica grimaced a bit. “Well, I know, but you didn’t touch hi--”

“V! It doesn’t matter if I touched him or not. It’s goddamn FP Jones, for fuck’s sake!”

Veronica nodded in agreement and replied, “That is a new and interesting development, isn’t it? I mean, FP is _super_ DILF-y, but I thought that would be more my taste than yours...and I certainly don’t blame you for wanting to touch yourself while we was naked and _wet_ in front of you. Jesus Christ, you can only have so much willpower.”

Betty almost got whiplash from how quickly she turned toward her best friend, eyebrows raised in shock. “Wait, you mean -- you think FP is hot?”

Veronica looked incredulously into her best friend’s eyes. “Elizabeth. FP Jones is so smoking hot, I’m fairly certain every pair of underwear I own would go up in a flame of lust and lubricant if I ever came within three feet of the man.”

Betty’s laughter rang out in the room as she covered her eyes with her hands. Peaking one blue eye through her slender fingers, she looked at V and said, “He really is, isn’t he?”

Veronica nodded solemnly and said, “Damn straight he is, B. But that doesn’t stop him from being your boyfriend’s father. What were you thinking?”

Betty groaned in frustration and fed herself another heaping spoonful of ice cream. “I wasn’t thinking at all and that’s the problem. The only thing I was focused on was getting off...and I did...spectacularly.”

“Do you still want to be with Jughead?”

Betty nodded her head furiously. “Yes, of course. I think what happened tonight was just the accumulation of sexual frustration, my fight with Juggy and just being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

V looked at her in the serious, noir-film-star way that only she could pull off. “But do you still have the hots for FP?”

Betty bit her lip and played with a stray thread in her pink duvet. “I’m worried about that. I think FP _woke_ something up in me that’s been dormant for a long time. It’s like my fantasies were within reach for the first time.”

Head resting on Betty’s shoulder, Veronica reached out to clasp her best friend’s hand. “So what are you going to do about that?”

Betty looked at her best friend and felt a spark of determination return amongst the stress and guilt. Squaring her shoulders, she replied fervently.

“Nothing. I’m going to pretend like my fantasies don’t exist and that nothing happened. I’m going to bury it all inside me. Nothing ever happened with FP Jones.”

 

\---

 

A light filtered across her eyelids and pulled Betty grudgingly out of a dream. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and flipped to the other side of the bed, surprised to see it empty. Veronica was not a morning person and typically slept much longer than Betty during their sleepovers. She fumbled for her cellphone on the nightstand and saw the text notification on her home screen.

_“Hey, I didn’t want to wake you but I had a 9 AM class at Lotus because the other instructor Becky called in sick. Evil skank. Anyway, text me after you wake up and we’ll grab some lunch. Love you! :*”_

Betty saw that it was almost noon and let out a long groan. She _never_ slept past ten, but the previous night’s events clearly forced her hand. She lazily got out of bed and made her mental game plan for the day as she got ready. She needed to talk to Jughead obviously, but actually finding him would be the issue. He hadn’t responded to the text she had sent him last night. Thankfully, Archie could typically always find him.

She threw her second-day curled hair into an easy half-up top knot and swiped on some extra mascara and burgundy lip stain. She needed to feel in control today and the first step was looking put-together. She slipped on a pair of roughed-up black skinnies, a tight white tank and her newly-purchased burgundy leather jacket from her recent shopping spree with V. As she slipped on her black suede booties, she texted Archie.

_“Hey there. You happen to know where Juggy is?”_

She heard the soft beep of his response as she was spritzing on her favorite vanilla musk perfume.

_“Hey and no, I haven’t seen him since he ran out last night. What the hell happened?”_

Betty rolled her eyes in frustration and let out a huff in response. Her fingers flew across the phone as she typed.

_“Long story. Up for some lunch with V and me?”_

_“Sounds good. See you at Pops in 20.”_

She quickly sent Veronica an update and headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet -- her parents, Polly and the twins had all gone to the city for the weekend and the lack of toddler babble and plastic toy sounds was strange. _Funny how a few years change everything_ , Betty thought offhand. The day was overcast, but there wasn’t any rain due until the evening so Betty decided to walk to Pops and sort through her thoughts.

Loving the sound of her boots on the sidewalk pavement, Betty bit her lip against the chill as she sorted through what she was feeling. Jughead had been her rock for the last few years and she loved him dearly, but were they growing apart as they got older? Why did he react so harshly toward her fantasy confession? The guilt she felt about her encounter with FP was potent and quickly overwhelming her, so she tried to push it out of her thoughts and focus solely on the fantasy issue. Betty’s lips pursed in concern when she remembered that she hadn’t even had the chance to fully explain the fantasy...and all that it entailed. Ever since the dramatic final years of high school, she had been trying to find her inner strength and sexuality. Years of therapy told Betty that her anxiety was rooted in situations where she felt out of control. Her therapist had suggested visualizing situations in where she was _not_ in control where there was also a positive outcome. Ever the dutiful student, she took this task seriously and spent a lot of time considering it. Over time, her visualizations turned...sexual. A fantasy took root in her mind and grew with intensity over time and she was desperate to act it out and truly let herself go. In her fantasy, she was blindfolded and tied up while she had anal sex with her partner. She knew that would be a pure act of submission and would help her overcome her incessant need to be in control. After the way Jughead reacted last night, would he even listen to the rest of her fantasy?

Betty let out a quiet “Ugh” and pushed the topic out of her mind as Pop’s neon sign came into view. She quickly walked across the gravel parking lot and pushed against the door, eager to get out of the chill. The door chime announced her arrival and the familiar flash of ginger hair that she had grown so accustomed to over the course of her life told her that Archie was already in their standard booth. He raised a hand in greeting and she made her way back to him.

She slid into the booth across from her oldest friend and felt a tired smile rise on her face.

“Hey there, Arch.”

Years of friendship made the concern blatantly obvious in his eyes. He placed a warm hand on her chilled ones clasped on the table.

“What happened last night, Bets?”

“Ugh,” Betty groaned and she sat back and covered her face with her hands. Letting her hands fall back onto the table, she stammered, “Well, I tried to tell Juggy about...I tried to talk to Jughead and...we had a difficult conversation and he didn’t like it.”

Archie’s auburn eyebrow raised instantly in skepticism.

“...You had a difficult conversation and he didn’t like it? What were you talking about?”

Betty opened her mouth, mind racking through an appropriate response when the door chimed once again. Jerking her head around, she saw Veronica slip into the diner in her paneled yoga pants and her loose heather “Namaste in bed” sweatshirt hanging off her trim shoulder.

A sigh of relief escaped Betty. “Oh thank God.”

Archie looked at her in confusion as Veronica slid into the booth next to her.

“Hello darlings, how’s everyone doing on this lovely fall day?”

Archie smiled at his long-time friend and occasional friend with benefits. “Hey Ronnie, Betty was just telling me about her argument with Jughead last night.” He gave Betty a sly, expectant look.

Veronica looked at Betty and said, “Well, there’s no if-ands-or- _buts_ about it, it’s a difficult topic.”

Betty half-groaned, half-laughed at Veronica’s ridiculous pun. She swatted her friend playfully between chuckles. “Jesus Christ, Ronnie, stop.”

Ronnie snickered and said, “Sorry, B, I couldn’t resist. But honestly, you’d think the dude would be into anal.”

Archie spat out a stream of chocolate milkshake across the table that landed directly between Betty and Veronica. They jumped to the sides of the booth, wiping the spit milkshake off themselves. “Jesus Arch!” Veronica exclaimed.

Archie, fumbling for words, stuttered with a stupefied look on his face, “I’m sorry, what did you say? Anal?”

Betty bit her lip and covered her face simultaneously. “Veronica!”

V pursed her lips in apologetic response. “I’m sorry, Bets, it slipped out. I thought you had already told him.”

Archie’s head kept swiveling back and forth between the two of them as if he were a bobblehead. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You asked Jughead if he wanted to have anal and he said...no?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Betty replied dryly, “Well, there was a bit more to it than that, but yes, that’s the gist of it.”

The look on Archie’s face was pure bafflement. “But... _why?!”_

“My thoughts exactly, Archiekins,” replied Veronica earnestly, taking a long sip of her milkshake.

Archie ran his hands through his hair. “But...I just don’t understand. I mean Jug and I have never talked about this before but _every single dude_ I know wants to get it in the backdoor.”

Betty grimaced and held up a hand, begging Archie to stop. “Archie, please. Also, he didn’t turn down the anal outright. He was more concerned that we were moving too fast and that he couldn’t be what I needed anymore. That’s a direct quote.”

“Hm,” Archie replied. “Well, what are you going to do? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

A loud beep coming from Archie’s lap interrupted him. Archie’s quick glance and raised eyebrows told her everything she needed to know.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Well, I’m not sure where he is right now...but he asked me if I wanted to meet him at the White Wyrm tonight...he said he needs to blow off some steam.” Archie’s sympathy was evident while reading off the final portion of the text.

Veronica’s look was pure “WTF?”

“The White Wyrm? Seriously?” she asked.

Archie looked hesitant. “He goes there sometimes...to hang out with some of his Southside friends.”

Betty’s face jerked to Archie’s. “He does?” she asked quietly.

Archie nodded his head sheepishly.

“He never told me that,” Betty murmured.

Veronica turned toward Betty and placed a manicured hand on her shoulder. “Bets, I have another class tonight and you can’t go to that place alone.”

Betty looked at Archie hopefully.

“I’m sorry Bets, but I have my music tutor tonight. You can talk to him at class tomorrow.”

Betty’s mouth set into a firm line, filled with the classic Cooper determination. “No. This needs to happen today. He’ll just have to share his safe haven for the evening.”

Veronica looked pleadingly at her, “B, you can’t just walk into the White Wyrm by yours---”

Betty cut her off with a sharp look. “Yes, I can. And I will.”

 

\---

Betty sat in her Mini Cooper and watched the windshield wipers push the soft drizzle of rain across the glass. Alicia Keys soothed the rough edges of her soul through the stereo and she tried to pluck up the courage to go into the bar across the street. Night had fallen early, so Betty could see the neon sign announcing the White Wyrm through the rain and fog. She saw Jughead’s motorcycle parked out front when she arrived, so she knew she was in the right place. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she checked her makeup one final time in the mirror. She applied a thick burgundy lacquer over her lip stain, making her lips look slick and wet. She added a smoky eye and thickened her lashes with more mascara. Her loose waves curled down over the collar of her leather jacket and down her back. She had kept on the same outfit from the afternoon, but added a push-up bra. If she was going to have a tense conversation in a bar, she might as well look sexy as hell while doing it.

Setting her shoulders, she turned off the car and pushed open the door. The rain fell gently on her face, calming her as she walked toward the front entrance of the White Wyrm. A huge man who vaguely resembled the Mountain from Game of Thrones awaited her at the entrance. He looked her up and down with a lecherous look in his eye and licked his lips as he checked her ID.

“Looking for something specific tonight, princess? I can be your type,” he leered.

She plucked her ID out his hands and replied with a curt, “Pass.” She pushed past him and into the smoky hazy of the White Wyrm.

Much bigger than it looked on the outside, the White Wyrm had been the watering hole of choice for the Southside Serpents for many years. While anyone could come, it wasn’t recommended unless you had a tie to the Serpents. Betty had that covered.

She didn’t go unnoticed as she pushed her way past the pool tables and dart board, but she didn’t stop traffic either. Her eyes searched through the crowd for Jughead to no avail. She felt a kernel of panic rise in her throat. What if she couldn’t find him? She was about to bolt when she saw the familiar point of a hacked-up beanie behind a wooden pole at the far end of the bar. Sighing in relief, Betty quickly made her way around the large half-circle bar, sidestepping outstretched legs, cigarette butts and peanut shells. Jughead came into full view and Betty immediately stopped dead in her tracks. He was obviously wasted, per the half-empty bottle of whisky in front of him, but what was more disturbing was the leggy brunette draped over him.

Betty’s stress was quickly replaced with red hot fury and she stalked up to Juggy, slammed her hand down onto the bar and said, “Hello, Jughead.”

Red-rimmed eyes shot to hers and he knocked his empty, ice-filled glass over with a jerk of his hand. Mouth ajar, he gaped, “Betty?! What are you doing here?”

“What am _I_ doing here, Jughead? What are _you_ doing here? Seems like a perfectly cozy evening with you, your whisky and Toni!”

Toni Topaz’s eyes fluttered toward hers with a sneer. “It was,” she simpered, “until you showed up.”

Jughead narrowed his eyes at Toni’s response and turned toward Betty.

“Bets, I’m sorry, I just needed to blow off some steam and I never thought that you’d come here.”

Betty pushed her emotions back down her throat. “That much is obvious Jughead, but why did you need to escape? We need to talk about last night, so I showed up here and you’re wasted with some other girl. What am I supposed to think?”

Toni tapped a blood red stiletto nail on the filthy bar top. “Listen, _Betty_ ,” she sneered. “JJ has complicated feelings that you’ve never concerned yourself with...so he comes here and talks to me. We’ve been close ever since his stint at Southside and that hasn’t changed the entire time he’s been with you.”

Betty’s wide eyes turned toward Jughead in shock. “ _JJ_? What the hell?! You’ve come here to talk through your problems -- problems we’ve had _together_ \-- the entire time we’ve been dating?!”

Jughead’s head bobbed in his stupor and he slurred a bit. “Listen Bets, it’s not a big deal. You can be a lot to handle sometimes and Toni just helps me through it. She’s a good friend.” Toni raised her eyebrows in challenge and triumph and reached over to wrap her arm around Jughead’s shoulder.

Betty gasped out loud as hurt flooded her like a broken dam. Clutching her hand to her heart, she stammered out, “Juggy, I came here tonight to talk about our fight, but clearly we have more issues that I ever thought.”

Toni’s eyes narrowed at Betty while Jughead slurred through some incoherent response. She whipped a long chocolate curl over her shoulder as she hissed through her teeth. “I’ve been waiting to say this to you for a long time and clearly now is my chance. You and Jughead are not meant to be together. You’re uptown, he’s downtown, you’re cashmere, he’s leather, you’re fluff and he’s substance.” Jabbing a finger at Betty’s chest, she punctuated her words with a vengeful stab. “You. Do. Not. Fit. Give it up, let him go and move on. You’ll be happier for it and so will we.”

Hate, anger and spite rose in Betty like thick lava filling her veins and she pulled back her hand, ready to slap the shit out of that Southside bitch. Before she could unleash her holy hell onto Toni, a huge, rough hand enclosed her fist and the familiar, comforting smell of sandalwood filled the space around her.

“Is there a problem here?” The rough voice that had called out her name in orgasm the night before snaked its way through the thick tension. Betty was frozen on the spot, so FP’s hand slowly lowered her fist to her side as he stepped right beside her, his body halfway between her and Toni as if protecting them both from the impending fight.

Toni half=smirked, half-scoffed at FP. “No problem, FP. I was just telling Betty here that she isn’t a good fit for a Jughead and it seems like he agrees, don’t you JJ?”

Half-passed out on the bar, Jughead’s thumb barely turned upward in agreement. Betty had no idea if he was coherent, but that small affirmation hit her like a truck. She gasped again and unconsciously turned into FP, trying to shield herself from the pain.

FP looked at Toni with serious doubt and replied, “I call bullshit. Jughead, stand up for your girl, goddamnit.” FP shook his shoulder and Jughead fell off the barstool with a huge thud and loud groan.

Through the haze and fog, Jughead yelled, “For fucks’ sake, Betty, can’t you just leave me alone?!”

Both Betty and FP reeled back as though they had been physically slapped. Toni looked smugly at Betty in triumph and said with a finger pointed toward the exit, “Well, you heard the man. You’re not wanted here. The door is that way.”

Her sharp words cut straight through Betty and it was the last she could take. Tears burnt up by her anger and disbelief, she ran out of the bar dry-eyed as FP tried to pull Jughead back onto the bar stool. She pushed through the front door and gulped the fresh air desperately as she tried to maintain her composure. Rain falling steady now, she walked to the side alley and leaned back against the damp brick, focused on regulating her breathing and controlling the panic that welled inside her.

She was about to push off the wall and walk to her car when she heard a low chuckle come from the far, dark corner of the alley near the White Wyrm’s staff entrance. Fear flooded her as her head snapped toward the sound, eyes seeking the source in the pitch black dark.

“Hi there, princess -- did you finally come for your taste?” The huge bouncer made his way out of the shadows, stalking toward her with a purpose that terrified her. She turned on her heel and was about to break into a sprint when she slipped on the wet pavement and hit the ground with a hard _thud._

The world pivoted around her as rain fell onto her face. The smell of garbage and urine shocked her senses as she tried to pick herself up. Blinking back the shock and dull pain she felt everywhere from the impact, she looked up and saw him standing over her with an evil grin on his face that she’d never forget for the rest of her life. She let out one loud scream before his hand shot toward her, yanking her up by the elbow and pushing her face-first into the brick wall. He covered her mouth with one hand and she screamed as loudly as she could against it, praying that anyone would hear her.

She could hear him fumbling with his belt as he whispered in her ear, “Oh princess, I am going to love this and you know what? I bet by the end you’ll like it, too.” Tears of panic filled her eyes as she heard him unzip his pants, positive that her clothes were next. Just as she heard his pants hit the ground, a loud _CLANG_ shattered through the night. The bouncer fell like a sack of bricks behind her to the ground. Free from his grasp, Betty let out a cry and almost collapsed before rough hands and sandalwood enveloped her to a warm chest.

She clawed against the sturdy warmth in terror, but a familiar voice rang true in her ear.

“Betty, baby, you’re okay, I’ve got you. He’s not going to hurt you, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

FP’s reassuring words broke down her resistance and she collapsed into him, holding onto him desperately as he ran his hands over her.

He pulled her back for a brief moment to look into her eyes, two huge thumbs swiping over her damp face, checking for injuries.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? Baby, you’ve gotta talk to me.”

With his hands still on her face, she nodded solemnly. Her hands gripped onto his forearms for strength.

“I’m okay. He was close, but he didn’t. You made it just in time.” FP quickly searched her eyes one more time and pulled her deep into his embrace. Almost instinctively, she nuzzled into his neck and wrapped her arms completely around his firm body.

“Thank fucking God,” he murmured into her ear. His hand ran up and down her back, soothing her beyond comprehension.

She shot her glance over at the bouncer, his dead-weight sprawled on the wet pavement right next to the metal pipe that FP had hit him with. FP followed her line of sight and _growled_ at the sight of the bouncer.

“Motherfucker, he’s lucky he’s not dead.”

“He isn’t?” Betty asked hesitantly. FP’s thumb wiped a stray raindrop or tear off her cheek.

“No, I didn’t hit him hard enough,” he replied, still looking at her. “I’ve had enough murder accusations for one lifetime, I think.”

Despite the events of the evening, Betty let out a low chuckle. “Ain’t that the truth.”

FP smiled _that smile_ and was about to say something when they heard a door open and someone yell, “FP, you there?” from the front step. It snapped her out of the comfort zone that she had settled so neatly into.

FP yelled back, “Yeah, just a minute!” Betty quickly stepped out of his embrace. FP reached for her, but she quickly put her hand up to block him.

Stuttering against her adrenaline and sudden shyness, she said, “Thank you for helping me, Mr. Jones, but--”

FP cut her off with a deep chuckle. Taking a strand of her blonde hair between his fingers, he said with a smirk, “I think you can call me FP, Betty. You’ve seen me naked.”

Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline and she gaped at his response. Smiling at the fact that she couldn’t put together a retort, he stepped toward her, now just inches from her face.

“Listen, about last night--” he started when the front door opened again.

“FP! Seriously need you in here, man!”

FP’s frustrated groan snapped Betty out of her sandalwood-induced trance and had her walking out of his path.

“It’s fine, I have to go anyway,” she said quickly, turning just after she saw the look of shocked disappointment in his eyes. She was halfway across the parking lot when she heard him yell after her.

“Betty!”

Overwhelmed with the array of emotion coursing through her body, she quickly jumped into her car, turned the key and drove off into the foggy night, leaving the White Wyrm, FP and Jughead behind her.

 

\---

 

Betty immediately stripped out of her leather jacket to her tank and jeans, wet curls settling down her shoulders. The rain was coming down in heavy blanketed sheets now, but that didn’t stop her from driving around Riverdale for the next two hours. She finally settled her car at the empty lot where the old drive-in once stood, wading through her thoughts and wondering what the hell had happened to her life over the last 48 hours.

She couldn’t believe the way Jughead had acted earlier. She knew he was wasted beyond comprehension, but his feelings had to come from somewhere -- somewhere she knew he had most likely buried them for the last few years. Toni was the breaking point, though. The fact that Jughead had turned to her through every rough time over the course of their relationship was the ultimate betrayal. 

Then, of course, DILF-in-shining-armor comes swinging in, saving her and leaving her even more confused than before. She had never seen him as tender as he had been with her tonight. Where the hell had that come from? She wasn’t sure, but thinking of him, beating her attacker to a pulp and then automatically comforting her had that warm, familiar heat pooling between her thighs, begging her to relieve the ache. She laughed out loud at herself, flabbergasted that she felt the need to masturbate after all the bullshit that had happened. Nipples straining against her ridiculous bra, she unhooked it from behind her and threw it into the back seat. She tweaked one, thinking about FP’s hard body under her hands. She was about to lean back her seat and take care of the building pressure when she had what Ronnie would call a “come to Jesus” moment.

Shifting her head to the right, she realized that FP’s trailer at Moccasin Manor was less than a half mile from where she was parked right now. Jughead had abandoned her tonight in her time of need, so why the hell shouldn’t she abandon her inhibitions and take care of her needs? Slightly crazed and bolder than she had ever been in her life, she opened her door and started jogging toward FP’s trailer.

Chills from the frigid air racked her body and forced her nipples to attention against her soaked tank. She picked up speed, desperate to get to where she needed to be, hoping more than anything that he would be there. Cutting through the trees and bushes, she saw the half-lit sign for Moccasin Manor nearing as she ran at full speed. The rain was pelting against her, rendering her tank basically useless. A flash of hope coursed through her as she saw the dim porch light on in the distance. She crossed the lawn and halted to a quick stop just feet from the trailer, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Chest heaving, she looked at the door and thought of the man behind it. Was she making the right decision? A million “what ifs” raced through her mind, but the only two words that stood out to her were the ones she whispered quietly under her breath.

“Fuck it.”

Betty quickly jumped up the steps, landing right in front of the glass screen door. Knocking fervently, she anxiously waited for what felt like ten years, but in reality was no longer than ten seconds..

The front door opened and FP stepped into view, shirtless and in soft, thin sweatpants. Goddamn, he looked incredible. His mouth dropped at the sight of her -- and she was sure she looked a sight, soaked to the bone, panting and visibly aroused. Still regaining her breath, she took him in and saw that he was taking her all in. In that moment she knew that this was where she was meant to be.

Pushing her soaked curls off her shoulder, she looked up at him and asked, “Well...are you going to let me in?”

FP pushed open the glass door and hooked a finger in the waistband of her soaked skinny jeans. Eyes solemn and mouth just shy of a true smile, he pulled Betty toward her fate and closed the door behind them.

 

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, but I doubt you'll mind because (in the words of Rihanna) this is what you came for. Enjoy!

Betty stepped into the warmth of the trailer, eyes fixed on FP. Using the crook of his finger, he pulled Betty into him until her soaked tank top was brushing his bare chest. She let out the smallest gasp as his warm hands snaked up her body and cupped the back of her neck, rough thumb pads grazing her soft, damp cheeks. 

Her body was shivering, but Betty knew it wasn’t from the cold. That musky sandalwood scent wrapped itself around her until she was dizzy and painfully aroused. Hands now resting on her hips, he leaned his face to hers and slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose against her jawline, sending more shivers down her spine as his warm huff of breath connected with her neck.

His voice now almost pure gravel, he questioned softly in her ear, “Are you sure? Because this is not a one time deal, Betty. I’m not going to be able to only have you once. So you have to be sure.”

A flash of guilt bloomed in her heart like an unwanted weed, but the heat that radiated from where she felt his breath on his ear burnt it up instantly. Eyes closed in pleasure, she let out a breathy “ _Yes_ ,” and ran her hands up his chest, fingertips lightly brushing through the smattering of soft hair on his defined chest. Warm and under her hands, FP felt so _solid._

Her fingertips were so sensitive, almost electrified and she slowly ran her hands down the planes of his stomach to the edge of his waistband. Betty’s eyes followed her hands and with a jolt of pleasure saw that FP’s sweatpants were tented and his dick was straining against the thin fabric. She literally salivated at the sight and, bolder than she had ever been, palmed his cock, loving the thick weight of it against her hands. FP let out a half-groan, half-growl and wrapped his hand fully around her delicate wrist. 

With a wry smile on his face, he gently pulled her hand off of him and said with a chuckle, “No baby, we need to take care of you first. Come here.” His hands gripped the hem of her soaked tank top and pulled it off her chilled body. His eyes flashed with heat and he let out a low groan as her achingly full breasts bounced into place. “Fuck, I knew they’d be perfect. Cherry pink and _perfect._ ” 

His hand shot out and pulled her with him as he walked back to the low blue couch behind him. Cock still straining against his sweatpants, he settled into a sitting position as Betty stood topless in front of him. His eyes roved over her body like he was a starved man who was finally about to eat. She felt _powerful._

FP let out a heavy breathed and said, “Betty, baby, come here. I need to touch you. 

In control and loving it, Betty slowly dragged a hand up her body and cupped her breast. Taking her nipple in her fingers, she bit her lip and raised her eyes to his. FP, completely mesmerized with her, _growled._

Groaning and rubbing his dick through his sweatpants, he said, “My girl knows what she’s doing. Now, _come here_.”

He leaned forward, grabbed her hand, and pulled her onto him so she was straddled over his straining cock. Inches from his face, she looked at his lush mouth and bit her lip. His hand cupped the back of her head and brought her to him, so he was a breath away from her mouth.

“I’ve wanted to do this for fucking years,” he said directly into her mouth. Before she could even form a thought, he pulled her down to him, lips crashing against hers with need and lust and want. Settling her body as close to his as she could physically get, her tongue jutted out to meet his. He moaned deeply into her mouth as he moved one hand to fully cup her ass, the other _finally_ playing with her aching nipple.

Desperately needing to feel him, she grinded her hips against his as he deepened the kiss to the point where they were sharing breath between them. Moving his lips to her jawbone, then her neck, then her collarbone, he left a trail of heat and goosebumps as he kissed his way to her breasts. Aching for his mouth, she arched her back, a silent plea that had pleasure filling FP’s eyes and she saw a small smile settle on his mouth. He cupped her breasts with his hands and ran his thumbs over both hardened nipples simultaneously, drawing a whimper from Betty.

He moaned in response and gritted out, “Those little noises of yours are going to be the end of me.”

In the next instant, FP lowered his lush lips and took Betty’s throbbing nipple into his mouth. A long, low moan erupted from Betty as she threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him to take her more fully into his mouth. His tongue lightly grazed over the hardened peak while he sucked, forcing her to grind her jean-clad hips over his crotch just for an ounce of relief. He switched back and forth between breasts several times until her desperation got the best of her. Impatience rose as hot as her need and she pulled away from him and groaned in frustration.

“These pants are coming off right fucking now,” she growled under her breath. She scooted off his lap and was fumbling with her jeans button, more desperate than she had ever been in her life. With that sexy smirk that she’d come to savor, FP chuckled low in his throat and sat up, his face now right at crotch-level.

“Easy, baby,” he said with a smile. “Let me help you.”

His warm hands covered hers and placed them on his shoulders. His competent hands made quick work of her stubborn jeans’ button and kissed her goose-pebbled skin right above her waistband as he slowly unzipped her zipper, millimeter by millimeter, staring directly at her.

She smiled broadly and ran her fingertips over his scalp, through his hair.  Feeling her heart swell, she decided it was time to be honest and earnest. “I’m happy and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now, FP.”

A small smile formed on his lush lips and he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the swell of her stomach. Feeling his exhale on her skin, he said in a fervent whisper only meant for her ears, “Me too, Betty -- me too.” 

His finger tips curved around her waistband and slowly pulled her jeans down, kissing every inch of her skin as it became exposed. Betty was breathing in little huffs now, tiny little groans punctuating each of his kisses as his mouth traveled further south. As he reached the apex of her pussy, she was at her breaking point. “Get me out of these pants _now,_ FP,” she begged through gritted teeth.

She could see his cock physically throb in response as he lightly nipped her skin. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he slid her jeans and panties down to her ankles. She quickly stepped out of them and kicked them aside, laying herself completely bare in front of FP. A spark of nerves flared in her, but were quickly pushed aside as FP _growled_ and ran his hands up the back of her thighs. He pulled her left leg up so it was settled over his shoulder, positioning his face right where she needed him most.

Running a knuckle up and down her soaked slit, Betty and FP groaned in unison. Pained with need, she looked down at him with begging eyes and pleaded, “FP, _please._ ” In a flash, he slid a thick finger into her aching pussy as his tongue settled on her swollen clit, expertly flicking and rubbing in perfect time with each other.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Betty moaned loudly, heat flashing behind her eyes and FP played her like she was a goddamn fiddle. His flat, wide tongue connected with the sweet spot on her clit. She didn’t think it was possible, but he slid another finger into her tight pussy and she whimpered in response.

“So. Fucking. Sweet.” he said in between punctuated licks. Betty ran her fingers through his hair and felt her hips start grinding in time with his fingers and tongue. She could feel the heat and light building behind her eyes, delicious pressure building across every nerve in her body.

She could feel FP smile on her clit and chuckle. “Impatient girl,” he said lovingly.

A smile bloomed on her face, head tossed back in pleasure. “Hush,” she responded. Hips grinding earnestly in response, she picked up the pace, fucking his fingers and his tongue with equal measure.

The pressure started building again, low in her stomach and quickly spreading through her body, filling her up bottom to top. Moaning and gasping for breath with every flick, FP wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hard, instantaneously pushing her over the edge. Light, heat and pleasure wracked her body and she could feel her pussy spasming over FP’s fingers. She let out a low moan as he lapped her up, savoring the taste of her.

Legs shaky, she leaned on FP for balance as she caught her breath. His head quickly lifted and caught her lips in a fierce kiss. Betty could taste herself on his lips and moaned low into his mouth. In a swift movement, FP scooped Betty into his arms, lifting them off the couch and made a beeline for the bedroom.

“Fucking Christ, I need to be in you right now,” FP groaned into her ear. Legs wrapped firmly around his waist, Betty smiled before she leaned down and sucked on FP’s earlobe. His quick gasp of breath was all the encouragement she needed, so she sent her tongue up the line of his ear, gently nipping him with her teeth.

FP lightly smacked her ass in response and said, “Better watch yourself little girl, or this is going to be over before it’s even started.”

She let out a light laugh as he threw her onto the worn duvet on the queen-sized bed.

“Oh really?” she responded with a challenge in her eye. She raised a single eyebrow and jokingly asked, “Can’t take the heat, old man?”

FP’s own eyebrow raised in response and she saw the laughter behind his eyes. “Old man? Is that what you think I am?” Eyebrow still raised, he tilted his head in challenged and pushed his sweatpants down to his ankles. His cock sprang to attention and a small, round “O” instantly formed on Betty’s lips. She took a moment to fully take in the sight of him.

FP was pure _man_ \-- strong, built legs and thighs leading up to a flat plane of stomach and a defined chest covered lightly with curling hair. Strong shoulders made their way into thick forearms and eventually to FP’s hands. “ _Sweet Christ,_ his hands,” Betty thought. She could write a fucking anthology of poetry about his hands. Those hands that had just expertly made her come all over them. She bit her lip and raised her eyes to his. The light behind his eyes and broad smirk had a smile blooming on her face.

“That was the most satisfying eye-fuck I’ve ever had the pleasure of being apart of,” he said to her, smirk in full effect. A quick blush rose to her cheeks. She laughed and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed after being caught blatantly checking him out.

She heard his laughter ring out and felt his warm hands wrap around her ankles. He pulled her down the bed until she was once again close to him, wrapped in the scent of him -- the classic sandalwood and something now much more _male,_ something pure FP. She sat up on the edge of the bed just as leaned down to kiss her full on the mouth, hands winding through her still-damp hair.

Breaking the kiss for a quick series of pecks on her neck, he laughed into her ear, “Betty baby, don’t be embarrassed. I can promise you that the feeling is _very_ mutual.”

Warmth spread out all over her body, a blush once again rising to her cheeks, but for a completely different reason. Feeling emboldened by his response, she scooted forward until she was face-first with his thick cock, positions reversed from where they were just minutes before. Looking up at him with a smile, she softly cupped his balls and ran her hand up and down his shaft. Her heart warmed at his long, low groan.

Kissing the tip of his cock lightly with pursed lips, she replied, “I amend my earlier statement. Not an old man, just a very, _very_ big one.” She gleefully took him into her mouth, sliding until her lips touch his base. Eyes watering at his length, she slid her tongue along the thick vein that ran along the base of his cock, reveling in the taste of him.

“Fucking Christ, Betty,” FP grunted, eyes closed while his hands ran through her hair. Gently rolling his balls in her palm, she slid her mouth up and down his cock, savoring the power surge she felt whenever she heard him moan or gasp. FP was putty in her hands and Betty _loved_ it. She continued to slide her wet, hot mouth over him, up and down, again and again. Each groan and growl was like a white hot coal fueling her power. She was intoxicated by it.

She could feel his cock throb in her hot mouth and his raspy voice filled the room, breaking her from her spell. “Baby, I need to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

She slid off his mouth and smiled up at him. His warm smile in response had her heart fluttering and she stood to quickly kiss him. He deepened the kiss in response and slowly lowered her onto the bed, eyes taking in the sight of her naked in his bed.

“You’re a vision,” he said, hushed and serious.

He pulled a condom out of the nearby dresser drawer and carefully ripped open the package. Sliding it onto his throbbing dick, Betty licked her lips, desperate to feel him in her. Heat pooled between her thighs once again and she knew she was slick with wanting him. He made his way to her on the bed, thick thighs settling between her spread ones. Aching for him, she ran a single fingertip up and down her hot slit.

His eyes instantly glazed over and he growled in response. He leaned forward and rubbed her clit with the rough pad of his thumb while he settled his cock at her entrance. Light flashing behind her eyes, she moaned, low and deep, and lifted her hips to him. Palming the base of his cock, she could feel FP’s tip pushing into her while he groaned loudly.

He slid in inch by inch, causing Betty to gasp and moan in pleasure as his cock filled her fully. Now wrapped completely in her, FP started fucking her with long, delicious strokes.

Through gritted teeth, he punctuated each stroke with his raspy voice. “This. Fucking. Pussy. Is. Mine.”

Betty moaned in response, not taking her eyes off of his. Her connection to him was something she had never experienced before and she didn’t want to break the spell now. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist to pull him deeper into her, if that was even possible. He leaned forward and took her nipple in his mouth as he continued to fuck her with those long, perfect strokes that hit every single spot.

“Fuck, _yes,_ FP,” she moaned into his ear. He growled in her ear and took the lobe into his mouth. She gasped and ran her fingers through his hair.

“So fucking beautiful,” she heard him murmur into her ear.

She kissed his cheek as white hot heat and pleasure fractured like lightning throughout her body. She leaned into his ear and commanded, “Flip me over.”

He pulled away from her with smirk and a raised eyebrow, still grinding his cock perfectly into her pussy.

“This position not working for you, baby?” he questioned jokingly as she moaned and tweaked her nipple.

“Of course it is, but I just like…” she trailed off, unsure of how to finish the statement and distracted by pleasure.

He smiled lovingly down at her and slowed his pace.

“You like being in control,” he replied with a questioning eyebrow and a beautiful smirk. Betty bit her lip at the fact that he had figured her out so easily.

Still sending delicious shock waves through her body, he slowly leaned forward and lifted each of Betty’s legs onto his shoulders. Deeper than anyone had ever been in her life, she gasped at the intensity.

Pulling her flush to him, he rubbed her clit with his thumb and laid a hard kiss on the inside of her knee up by his shoulder. He looked at her with serious eyes and said, “I know you’re used to being in control, but here with me? I’m in charge. I’m in control of your pleasure and I’ll make sure you get it, every. single. time.” He punctuated each word with a sharp, hard thrust, each stroke sending a perfect jolt of pleasure across all the nerves in her body.

Picking up the pace now, FP growled down at her, “Do you understand, baby?”

Gasping with each sharp thrust, her eyes connected with his as a small smile rose to her face. Challenging him with her eyes, she replied, “Yes, Daddy.”

FP’s eyebrows raised instantly with his long groan. His speed intensified and he furiously rubbed her clit as he fucked her with blind passion and heat. Their moans intermingled with the delicious sound of him slapping against her filled the room. That exquisite familiar white heat and pressure was waging a war inside her body, an instant and a lifetime from unleashing her orgasm. FP’s grunts were as frenzied as her own and with one final, perfectly synced thrust and groan, sent her careening over the edge, submitting her to the most delirious orgasm she had ever had. Light and heat exploded behind her eyes as she heard FP groan in perfectly mixed pain and pleasure as he emptied himself into her spasming pussy

Eyes closed, panting in pleasure and exhaustion, FP lowered himself on top of Betty. His delicious weight brought her back down to Earth and she wrapped herself around him and placed a full kiss on the frenzied pulse point in his neck.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispered in her ear. 

With a drained chuckle, she responded, “My thoughts exactly.”

She could feel him smile against her neck as their hearts settled back into their normal cadence. He positioned himself on his elbows and looked down at her very smug and satisfied face. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, seemingly letting his appreciation do the talking. He slowly pulled away and then chuckled to himself.

A small smile rising on her face, Betty asked, “What is it?”

FP looked down at her with a smirk and questioned, “Daddy?”

A hot flush violently erupted on Betty’s cheeks and she covered her face with her hands.

“Um, well, I was kind of in the moment and it just happened. Was it weird?” she said behind her fingers.

Laughing fully now, FP sat back so he was straddling Betty. He gently pulled her hands from her face and kissed each palm, never taking his eyes from hers.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting it, but when it happened I quickly decided it was the hottest fucking thing I had ever heard.” said FP with a mischievous smile. 

Betty’s eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “You did?!”

FP nodded. “Hell yes. It kind of sent me over the edge,” he said sheepishly. He rose off of the bed and went into the bathroom to quickly clean himself up. He came back with a warm washcloth and settled himself back around her.

With a gentleness she didn’t know he possessed, he took the warm washcloth and ran it over her, slowly removing the evidence of their night together and lulling her into contentedness.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone. “I hope I wasn’t too rough,” he said seriously. “It would kill me if I hurt you.”

Touched by his concern, Betty lifted herself into a seated position, so their legs were tangled together. She placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Looking into his eyes and running her fingertips through his hair, she said, “FP, you were perfect. _It_ was perfect. It was the best sex I’ve ever had. My only disappointment is that I’m exhausted and there are a million other things I want to do to you.”

A quick laugh escaped him and he kissed her full on the mouth for the hundredth time that night. With a quirked eyebrow he asked, “Like what? Please describe to me in full detail.” 

She laughed and fell back onto the bed, hair splaying across FP’s pillow. Deciding they were far past the point of coyness, she bluntly responded, “I need you to pop my anal cherry.”

A whoosh of air escaped from FP’s mouth followed by a long groan. Running his hand up and down his awakened dick, he chuckled, “Betty baby, you can’t say shit like that right after we fuck. I may not be an _old_ man, but I need a little bit more time to recover and now my cock has other ideas.”

With a sly smile, Betty reached forward and grasped his cock. “Awe, poor Daddy.”

Heat flashed behind FP’s eyes. He playfully growled down at her and quickly rolled them over so that Betty was splayed out on top of him. Smiling gently at her, he took a strand of blonde hair and twirled it between his fingertips.

“We have time,” he said, shooting another kind of heat -- the fuzzy kind -- straight to her heart.

She lowered her lips to his and sealed his statement like a promise. They stayed like that, kissing for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, until they both fell asleep, limbs and feelings tangled together with the shabby sheets and threadbare comforter that warmed them against the chill of the November night.

\---


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ach, kind readers, I am so sorry for this delay! My full-time job & life got the best of me. TBH, I have also been rather uninspired by the complete lack of FP in RiverdaleS2, so this took a little effort. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy. <3

The distant cry of some sadistic bird pulled Betty out of her fogged slumber, sleep clouding her eyes as she slowly gathered her wits. She was sprawled across worn flannel sheets that kept the chill off her naked body. The most distracting thing, however, was the rough fingertip drawing soft circles around her inner thigh.

Pushing several strands of hair off her face, she turned her neck toward the nightstand and saw that the alarm clock read 8:13 AM. She turned back toward the bed and saw the culprit with his eyes closed, smirk softly settling on his lips. Memories from the previous night slammed back into her head as FP Jones opened a single eye in her direction. The low throb at the apex of her thighs reminded her exactly _how_ much FP had seen of her the night before. A thick wave of guilt and “ _Holy shit, what the fuck have I done?”_ began rising in her chest, pushing the contentment and ease out of her heart like an overflowing glass. Her eyes must have revealed the battle waging in her heart, because FP sat himself up on his elbow.

Concern flashing over his features, FP quietly asked, “Is that panic I see settling in?”

Her emotions choked her ability to speak, but a single, betraying tear escaped and made its rebellious track down her cheek. Betty inwardly cursed her emotions and her inability to keep them locked within her.

Seeing the lone tear, FP instantly gathered her in his arms and pulled her close to his chest, murmuring soft words and hushes in her ear. He quickly pulled the duvet over their heads and blocked out the day.

Lifting her chin to force her eyes to his, he gestured to the duvet and said, “See? Absolutely nothing can reach us in here. It’s just you and me.” He softly stroked the length of her back while he physically held her together, keeping all the puzzle pieces that composed Betty Cooper fully in place.

She took a long, deep breath against the crook of his neck and let out an involuntary shudder.

“What have I done?” she barely whispered, the devastation from her voice dissolving into his tanned skin.

FP cradled her even further until she was on her back, staring up at his weathered face. He leaned back, pulling his full weight off her. She couldn’t place the emotion in his eyes as he brushed a stray curl off her face.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong,” FP said with conviction. “If this gets out somehow, I will take full responsibility. You’re of legal age, but I know there will be repercussions. I’ll say that I lured you in somehow.”

Shock had Betty’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “FP, you think I’m worried about this getting out? What people would think?” 

FP’s lips fell into frown with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. He tried to look away from Betty, but she placed her hands on his cheeks and drew his gaze back to hers. 

“FP, that is not what I’m worried about _at all._ I am devastated about how this will impact Jughead,” she said, noticing his flinch at his son’s name. “But I am not ashamed of you. I am a grown woman and I _wanted_ you and this. I will not let you take the blame for something that requires none.”

She released a puff of air and added, “Hell, I still want you,” with a light chuckle.

A flash of heat coursed behind his eyes as he looked down at her solemnly. She felt him grow thick against her leg and she couldn’t help the small smile that grew on her lips. 

He matched her smile with a grin of his own. “Like I said last night, the feeling is mutual.” 

As soft light seeped through their duvet cocoon, their breaths mingled together as the ache grew between Betty’s thighs. “We will tackle this together when the time comes,” she said breathily.

FP nodded, eyes not leaving hers as he positioned himself right where she wanted him most. His body shuddered as he felt how wet and ready she was for him.

A final thought coursed through her mind and she said, “In fact, I don’t think…” and was promptly cut off by her own whimper as FP slid his full length into her.

Lazily pushing in and out of her like they had all the time in the world, FP whispered in her ear, “Shhh, baby. I’m going to take care of you now.”

And she didn’t think or say a single thought for the rest of the morning.

 

\---

 

Betty walked into the Lotus Blossom Yoga Studio just in time for Ronnie’s noon class. Clad in various shades of Lululemon pink, she rolled out her mat near the front of the class and quickly stashed her purse and shoes in the locker room. Veronica was up at front with a new instructor who looked to be shadowing the yoga veteran for the class. Ronnie, as always, looked impeccable -- the Blair Waldorf of yogis was outfitted in a black and violet mesh bralet with matching yoga tights. Her jet hair was in a loose braid held together with a pearl hair tie.

Veronica raised an eyebrow at Betty’s late arrival as she quickly took a seat on her mat. V’s classes could usually get her through any struggle and she hoped they would work overtime today to clear out her crowded mind. Betty frantically waved Veronica over, desperate to tell her best friend about the previous night’s antics. Veronica made a beeline toward Betty and quickly pulled her toward the water fountain. 

Before V could get a word out, Betty blurted, “I slept with FP.” 

Veronica’s jaw almost unhinged from her skull at her confession. Not typically one without words, fear and trepidation rose steadily up Betty’s throat at the sight of Veronica’s gaping face. Desperately, Betty snapped her fingers in front of Veronica.

“V, please say something,” Betty begged. 

Veronica blinked and shook her head out of her stupor. Gripping Betty’s forearms, she whisper-yelled, “You did WHAT?!” 

“Hey Veronica, are you ready to start the class?” the new instructor called from the front of the room.

Veronica, clearly torn between Betty and responsibility, let out a dramatic “ugh!” and walked back to the front of the studio. Taking deep breaths to center herself, she turned toward the class, a mask of complete serenity covering her features.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

The 90-minute class was grueling, to say the least. Normally, Ronnie was calm, collected and a very helpful teacher. Today, she was a tiny little vamp drill sergeant. By the end of the class, Betty’s muscles shook and she was completed coated in sweat. 

“That’s it for today, guys! Have a great week. Namaste!” Ronnie ended the class with a little bow. A collective cacophony of groans filled the room as people gingerly walked toward the locker rooms. Some just even collapsed on their mats.

Veronica looked directly to Betty and sharply said, “You. Me. Sauna. Now.” 

Betty’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline in trepidation as she followed V to the staff sauna. It was a bit of a luxury add for the studio, but Cheryl built it into the design plan so she could use it any time she didn’t want to use the spa at Thornhill.

Once they hit the staff locker room, Ronnie quickly slipped out of her sweat-soaked clothes in silence and walked directly into the sauna. Betty, braced for the worst, quickly followed suit and grabbed a thick towel as she entered the steam-filled room.

Set to a balmy 98 degrees, Betty could instantly feel her pores open up as the sweat trickled down her body. V was relaxed in the corner, eyes closed and hair pushed off her neck.

Betty sat across from her and braced for the verbal ass-beating her best friend was about to hand her. Veronica, without opening her eyes, said in an eerie calm, “I’ve had the entire hour and a half to think about this, and I have three questions.”

Betty took a deep breath. “Okay...shoot.”

Veronica opened her eyes and crossed her legs, looking very much the Lodge Power Child™ that she was. 

Eyebrow raised in challenge, she asked, “Question 1: Are you or are you not still dating Jughead Jones, son of FP Jones?

Betty shuddered out a fragile breath, eyes closing in pain. “I don’t think so. When I went to the White Wyrm last night, he was there...wasted...with Toni Topaz. He made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. A direct quote was, ‘For fucks sake, Betty, can’t you just leave me alone?’”

Veronica gasped at that. Betty bleakly nodded her head in response. She then added, “FP told Jughead to stand up for me. When he didn’t, I ran outside where I was almost raped by the bouncer.” Veronica gasped again and clapped a hand over her mouth. Betty continued, “FP came to my rescue again, hitting the bouncer over the head and knocking him out. He made sure I was fine and unhurt. He made me feel _safe._ ”

Veronica looked at her solemnly while stray drops of sweat ran down her shoulder. “Okay, that brings me to my next question...Did you seek him out or did he seek you?”

Betty felt a flash of heat behind her eyes at the barely cloaked accusation, but she took a deep breath to recenter herself. “I sought him. After what happened at the White Wyrm, I drove around Riverdale for two hours in the rain, thinking about everything that had happened. Somehow I found myself at the old drive-in lot and I just parked my car and ran to him.”

Veronica’s eyes widened as a small smirk formed on her lips. “You ran to him. In the rain.”

Betty huffed, “Yes!”

Veronica snorted, “Does this story end with you two dancing together at the old folks’ home?”

Betty let out a grateful laugh and rolled her eyes. “No, you know very well where this story ends.”

Veronica bit her lip at that and slowly nodded her head. “Which brings me to my third question, Bets.” After a long pause, she asked, “How was it?”

Betty, not expecting that question in the least, let out a bark of laughter and covered her eyes as her body shook in response. Still laughing, she groaned into her hands and let a soft smile form on her lips.

“It was...everything, V. He was so attentive and thoughtful and sweet and so _goddamn sexy_ ,” she said on a sigh. Betty knew it had to be the sauna, but she thought the temperature rose an extra ten degrees just thinking about it. 

Veronica, interest piqued and eyes bright, leaned forward with her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Did he go down on you? Were you on top? Was his dick as big as I think it is? Has he been awarded the male lead in your backdoor fantasy?” Veronica rattled off questions left and right until Betty put her hand up to stop her.

“Slow down, Ronnie!” she said with a chuckle. “To answer your questions: Yes. No. Absolutely, yes. And yes, he seemed into it.” 

Satisfied, Ronnie leaned back and absorbed her response. She clucked her tongue at Betty and said, “Well Bets, that is sexy as hell. It’s a shitstorm of epic proportions, but that is sexy as hell.”

“Ugh,” Betty cried. “I know, but what am I going to do?!”

An eyebrow raised, Veronica asked the tough question, “Do you want to do it again?”

Betty hesitated and bit her lip. Did she? Out of all the feelings swirling around in her right now, had she sorted that particular one out yet?

Slow to respond, she said, “I think so. But I think I need to figure out what the hell is going on with Jughead before I even mentally go down that path.”

Veronica nodded adamantly in response. “I think that’s a very good call, B. Because right now this shit is looking very Jerry Springer and you know that does not fit either of our personas.”

“Fair point. Can we get out of this hotbox now? My hands have gone full raisin.”

Veronica lightly touched her face. “Yes, my pores are in a good place. Let’s go.”

 

\---

 

Both shivering against the November air with matching top knots, Veronica grabbed Betty’s hand before she jumped into her car.

“Bets, just so you know -- no matter what happens, I will never judge you for this and I will always be Team B. You are my person in this life and that allegiance holds no bounds.” Veronica squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Betty, overwhelmed and grateful, grabbed her best friend and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Thanks, V,” she said into her ear.

Betty hopped into her car, turned up Adele and let the mood of the music drown out the thoughts running circles in her brain.

She parked her car in the driveway and grabbed her yoga gear. As she walked toward the front door, a familiar sight stopped her dead in her tracks. She could see a grey beanie with points cut into the folded band just over the top of the hedge blocking her front door from view. He must have heard her abrupt stop, because that familiar voice called out to her.

“Betty? Is that you?” she heard him say from her front porch. Betty outwardly cringed and took a deep breath. Willing one foot in front of the other, she turned the corner and saw him.

Jughead Jones had seen better days. His eyes were rimmed red, his skin sallow and his shoulders seemed to physically droop from the unseen weight there. Betty crossed her hands over her chest as she made her way up the stairs. The pitiful look in his eyes almost did her in, but she stayed stoic as she sat on the porch swing. 

Jughead looked at her, silently asking if he could sit next to her. She jerked her head in assent and then looked away from him, because looking at him for too long seemed to have the same effect as the sun and brought tears to her eyes.

Juggy sat down on the swing and stared at his hands, as if he had suddenly forgotten what to do with them. 

Voice gravelly with regret, he said, “Betty, I’m not sure what to say about last night…”

Betty turned sharply toward him and with one piercing look, replied, “I think ‘I’m sorry’ would be the natural place to start.” Hypocritical? Yes. But her grief outweighed her guilt in that moment.

Jughead tore off his beanie and ran his fingers through his hair, releasing a haggard breath. “You’re right, it would, but ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t even begin to cover the regret I feel over last night.”

Betty opened her mouth to respond, but Jughead continued.

“You are perfect to me,” he started, causing Betty’s breath to hitch and tears to form in her eyes. “When you brought up your...fantasy...I was so taken aback by it. I responded terribly and I know I shamed you and I am so sorry for that. The guilt I felt in leaving you there overwhelmed me, so I idiotically decided to drown my sorrows at the White Wyrm last night. I don’t remember most of what I said to you, but I know it was bad.”

“If you can’t remember, how do you know it was bad, Jughead?” Betty asked quietly, finally turning her face toward his.

He looked back at her, with tears streaming down his face. “Because Toni told me this morning, when I woke up at her place.”

Betty heard someone gasp, which she assumed at first was Jughead, but then realized it was her own initial reaction right before she stopped breathing. Despite her own actions, despite everything she had ruined all on her own, that admission felt like an ice pick to her heart. Tears flowing freely down her face, her breath started catching with the severity of her sobs.

“Jughead, how could you?” she somehow asked through her tears. “You know how much I hate Toni and you choose to do this?”

The anguish in his eyes was palpable. He tried to reach for her, but Betty quickly moved out of the way and stood up, refusing to look at him.

His breath came out in a shudder before he responded, “I promise you I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was drunk and…” He seemed unable to finish his sentence.

Betty searched deep within her for some strength she wasn’t sure if she possessed. Doing her best to compose herself, she turned around and said, “Jughead, I’ve loved you for years and all of this,” gesturing to the mess that they had created, “is beneath you and it’s certainly beneath me.” She pulled every fiber of strength from her body to say her final piece. “I think it’s safe to say that we both know that we’re over, right? You know that we can’t come back from this? 

Fresh tears fell down her face as she looked at the first love of her life. She saw his heart break right in front of her, just as she felt hers harden into a thing she didn’t recognize. She sat back down and gripped his hand. “I love you, but I can’t be with you. Not anymore, Juggy.”

Tears ran down his nose and he released a final shaky breath. She placed a cold kiss on his cheek, taking in the scent of his S t-shirt one final time.

She went to open her front door and just as she turned the knob, he called to her quietly.

“Betty.”

She turned over her shoulder and crumbled at the sight of him behind her, in her soon-to-be past. 

He lifted his tired eyes to hers and stumbled over his words. “Would you be okay if my Dad and I still came over for Thanksgiving this Thursday? He was really looking forward to it and I don’t think I could make other plans in time.”

Betty let out a hollow, sarcasm-laced laugh as she remembered her promise to host Jughead and FP with her family for Thanksgiving this year. She rubbed her hands over her eyes, wondering if irony was an illness you could die from. Jughead and FP... with her and her family...on Thanksgiving. Just. Wonderful.

Jughead grew nervous and started filling the silence. “I mean, I totally understand if you won’t. I can probably ask Archie if he could have us…”

Betty lifted a hand, feeling weary beyond her years. “Juggy, stop,” she implored. Knowing she would come to regret this, she replied, “That’s fine. You and FP are still welcome here for Thanksgiving...it would mean a lot to me if we could still be friends...eventually.”

The light that flashed in Jughead’s eyes shattered her a bit. “Thank you so much, Betty. I... I want to be friends, too,” he choked out, as if he couldn’t believe how he had gotten here.

Betty nodded quickly and turned back toward the door. Self-preservation guiding her hand, she quickly said, “Goodnight Jughead,” and let herself into her home without a backward glance.

She could smell lasagna and garlic bread from the kitchen and heard the pitter-pat of little feet from the playroom. How could everything be so normal when she was so completely wrecked?

She shut the door quietly and made her way upstairs, desperate for a shower and a cathartic cry.

“Elizabeth, is that you?” called Alice from the kitchen.

Betty stopped, silently begging her mom to stay in the other room and not pester her with questions. “Yes, it’s me. Just going to take a shower and then I’ll be down for dinner!”

Betty ran upstairs before Alice could reply and slammed the door to her bedroom, aching for a moment of privacy. Tearing off her now-freezing yoga clothes, she dropped them on the floor and beelined for her shower. She cranked the knob to the hottest setting, stepped in and let the spray of the water drown out the sound of her sorrow.

 

\---

 

Betty came downstairs, encased in her white flannel pajamas and blue fluffy robe as if they were a suit of armor. Everyday interactions with Alice Cooper were battles no matter what, and she was already feeling particularly fragile from everything that had happened today.

She stepped into the kitchen and let the appetizing aroma from the lasagna and garlic bread waft around her. Sitting down at the dinner table, she noticed it was just set for two.

Betty looked up questioningly at her mother. “Where are Pols and the babies?”

Alice turned toward her with pursed lips. Her mother, looking beautiful in her slouchy sweater and black skinny jeans, brought over dinner and set it on the table. “They ate earlier,” she replied. “They were exhausted from the trip back from the city, so they made it an early night. Dad is working on tomorrow’s paper, so it is just you and me tonight.”

Betty bit her lip in concern. She loved her mom and they had come a long way after years of careful therapy, but she always grew hesitant to spend time alone with her. “Sounds good,” she replied, scooping some lasagna onto her plate.

“Something interesting came in the mail today,” Alice said nonchalantly, eye skirting over to Betty.

“Hm?” replied Betty, thoughts lost in her problems.

“Elizabeth Cooper, look at me,” Alice replied in the voice that could instill fear in anyone.

Betty’s eyes shot toward hers, eyebrow raised in confusion. “What, Mom?”

A small smile grew on Alice’s face. She took a thick envelope from the chair beside her and slid it over to Betty. A royal blue crown emblazoned across it, it was addressed to her from the Columbia School of Journalism.

Betty let out a small gasp and turned to her mom. “My application,” she whispered.

Eyes bright, Alice implored, “Open it!” 

A few months ago, after a particularly ugly fight with Jughead, Betty was feeling dejected about her future in Riverdale, so she did what she always did in times of uncertainty -- she researched. She found an elite journalism program for undergrads at Columbia. She thought she was seriously underqualified, but she spent weeks assembling her application -- referencing her work with the Jason Blossom murder case and the Black Hood investigation. She sent it off on a whim, but it wasn’t until this very moment with the envelope in front of her that she realized how much she longed for the opportunity. A fresh start and a chance to prove herself. Two things Betty Cooper desperately desired.

With trembling hands, she slowly tore open the envelope. Grabbing the contents within, she felt for their thickness. A lot of papers was a good sign, right? Pulling out the royal blue folder, she took in the letter clipped to the front.

 

 

> _Dear Ms. Elizabeth Cooper,_
> 
> _It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to our advanced placement undergraduate course at the Columbia School of Journalism. Enclosed you’ll find the materials needed to prepare for term which begins on January 1. Please send your confirmation of acceptance by December 1. Enjoy your holiday season and I look forward to seeing you in New York._
> 
> _Warm regards,_
> 
> _R. Whitethorn, Provost_

 

Eyes wide, Betty looked up in shock as Alice snatched the letter out of her hands. Her eyes flashing a million miles a minute, she let out a great “Whoop!” and pulled Betty into a tight embrace. Reality finally setting in, she looked at her mom and felt an ear-splitting grin fill her face.

“Mom! I got in! I can’t believe it, I actually got in!”

Jumping and squealing ensued around the kitchen for a few seconds, before Polly sent a “shh!” from the top of the stairs. Giggling together, they collapsed back onto the dining room chairs and spent the next 30 minutes talking about New York. A dark wisp of sorrow only made its way back into her mind after her mom brought up shopping for Thanksgiving -- an event that Betty prayed didn’t make the Riverdale Gazette’s Black Friday headlines.

Still reeling, Betty made her way upstairs for bed. Throwing herself onto her duvet, she sent up a quick prayer for happy dreams about New York and no heartbreaking dreams about Jughead. Her mind briefly considered asking for sexy dreams, but figured she could use a mental and physical break from _that_ drama. Settling for the night, her phone let out a flash of light from her bed stand. She picked it up and immediately noticed she had three unread texts.

 

> From: Ronnie
> 
> _Ugh, evening class was a complete drag. Do you ever wonder what the hell we are still doing in Riverdale? Meet me for lunch tomorrow to map out new life plans that involve more heels and less bare feet._

Betty whispered a quick thank you to the stars for bringing Veronica Lodge into her life. The girl was a godsend. Her eyes quickly flipped to the next text, which sent a hot roll of pain and guilt coursing through her stomach. 

 

> From: Juggy  <3 <3 <3
> 
> _I know you don’t want to hear from me right now, but I need you to know that you will always be my heart. Thanks for having FP and me over for Thanksgiving. See you Thursday, Bets._

The threat of tears put unbearable pressure behind her eyes, so Betty breathed deeply for a few seconds to keep them at bay. New York had always been her dream, but Jughead was more intrigued by Northwestern’s program in Chicago. How would she break the news to him on top of everything else? Ignoring the pain coursing through her heart, she quickly closed out of his text and look to the final message.

 

> From: Unknown
> 
> _Hey there. Is texting off-limits? I’m better with words in person, but my sheets smell like you and it’s...distracting. ;D_

Oh, fuck. She was in so much goddamn trouble. 


End file.
